#I have seen my friends get severe concussions right in front of me as a teen and the effects of that

[himbeaux-on-ice]

hot take, heavily penalizing teenagers for causing each other head injuries, even unintentionally, is good, actually, and the nhl could stand to take a page from the iihf book on the way that standard is upheld (for all ages).

“how are you gonna prepare them for the nhl if the rules are different?!” this is not an nhl run event. this is not the george parros department of player safety or the gary bettman league. this is not the ‘nhl prospect practice and preparation tournament’, this is the world junior hockey championship. it is its own entity unto itself and for its own ends, it is not just a stepping stone for your favourite budding superstars to gain prestige and fanfare before they move on to the only “big league” that north american hockey fans consider significant or meaningful. it plays a larger role in the development of not only players, but also of entire hockey training programs in countries where hockey, even men’s hockey, is an under-funded or less established sport.

not all of these kids are going to go on to be nhl players. ALL of them should get the chance to grow up to be adults who don’t have their quality of life degraded by lingering head injuries and cte.

miss me with your tough guy bullshit. good grief.

[daughterofthequeen]

Fear is Only a Obstacle

Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader

Summary: Poe is finally able to see you and he’s not wasting anymore time

Warnings: Describing injuries, cliche cliche cliche, fluff a lot, and angst but this time the fluff out ways the angst, not proofread I’m sleepy you guys, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Just a part 2 to my fic Till the End of Time

The sound of tie fighters are deafening

Along with the sound of exploding ships

Laser canons of different ships all around you

All of it replaying in your mind over and over until you finally wake up and the first thing you see are a pair of annoying bright lights. Groaning as your sitting up, it seems like you’ve been here for a few hours if you listen to what your body is telling you, but it only feels like a few minutes have passed. You remember trying to land as best you can with a blown engine then nothing. And now you’re even more confused because you’re not in any pain.

“Why happened?” You said getting ready to stand up and get out of the medibed you were in. “I hate med bays. Hello? Anyone here? You know im not claiming to be the smartest person in the galaxy but im pretty sure someone is supposed to at least be hovering over me.” You say in a semi loud sarcastic tone to make sure the person at the front desk could hear you.

And as you suspected your nurse came in. “You shouldn’t be sitting up just yet”, she said gently laying you back down on the bed. “It’s not like anyone was here to stop me. What happened anyway, I’m guessing the crash knocked me out but I’m not in the slightest of pain, you guys must’ve gave me some of the real good meds.”

Catching the nurse off guard she started laughing. “Yes, with all the injuries you have they were needed before you woke or you were going to be in a lot of pain. A migraine due to your concussion, fractured rib, a severely sprained ankle, and all of your cuts and bruises to top it off, you are very lucky those were the only extents of your wounds.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m not gonna be as lucky soon though because these pain meds are starting to wear off.” The groaning thats coming from you and the intense pain in your ankle is saying enough.

“Yeah, according to your chart it is time for another dosage. I’ll be right back.”

“Oh wow she wasn’t kidding.” You whispered feeling a major throbbing pain on the left side of your ribs.

Heading someone knock softly on the door you look up and see Leia standing in the door way smiling at you which causes you to smile back.

“Hey.”

“Hey, how are you feeling?” She asked sitting down next to you on your medibed.

“The pain is starting to kick in but my nurse is going to get me another dosage for the pain. What about you and everyone else?”

“ We took some heavy loses and a bunch more injured including yourself, I had to come down to check on your all.”

“ That’s going to take a while.”

“ I don’t mind it, you all risk your life to fight for a cause that could affect the whole galaxy willingly under my orders the least I can do is sit with you all and keep you company.”

“Your kindness never ceases to surprise me.”

“That’s something I use to tell your mother all the time.” That caught you off guard but it brought you joy, you knew your mom and Leia were friends before she passed. And it gave you some comfort to know you could got to Leia and ask questions about who she was and what she was like as a person anytime you wanted. It was one of the reasons you and Poe had bonded so well because you understood each others pain. Wait a minute, Poe.

“Oh Maker, I gotta find Poe, is he ok?!”

“Calm child. Poe is just find he’s out in the hallway now waiting to see you.”

“He’s not injured?”

“No. He’s perfectly fine, he seen you going down and was trying to get to you but you crashed. He’s actually the reason your alive he got you out the ship and here to the medbay in time enough for them to heal your wounds.

“He’s probably a mess right now.”

“Oh he is in complete distress but it’s not as bad as it was.” Looking up she says your nurse with the pain killers, getting ready to put them through your IV.

“Nurse Poy.”

“Yes general?”

“After you finish giving Y/n her medicine let Poe Dameron in. Seeing the nurse about to protest, she stops her in time. “I know visitors aren’t aloud right now but he needs this, they both do. Just let them have the room for a few minutes. Please?”

“Yes general, but make it quick.” The sides says looking down at your worried eyes. “If anyone see’s it’ll cause a ruckus and everyone would want to do it, then the whole medbay is full.”

“A few minutes is all we need.”

Leia stands and heads out the door into the hallway where Poe is waiting to hear anything about your condition. “I’ll get him.”

After a few minutes you see and hear Poe rush through the door. It actually startled you a little bit.

“Hi? You ok?”

“Am I ok? Are you ok? I’ve been worried for hours and all they kept telling me was that you still weren’t responding. They wouldn’t let me in no matter how many times I tried, they actually threatened to sedate me if I didn’t sit down. I was this close to punching a doctor Y/n I swear.”

All of his rambling was making you laugh until you seen the tears still coming out of his red and dry eyes. “Poe, you’re crying. Stop crying, I’m fine.”

“ I was worried about you. Seeing you just lying there in my arms not moving and barely breathing, that out a picture in my head that I never wanted to see. And now it’s something I can’t get out my head.” He says grabbing your hand that’s closest to him and squeezing it softly.

“Poe-“

“No, wait a minute, just listen for a second, okay? I prayed and promised to whoever was listening that if you made it out of this I would tell you the truth, and we only have a couple more minutes, so just let me say it, please?” He took your silence as a green light to tell you.

“Okay look Y/n, I don’t know how this is going to affect us but I can’t hold it in anymore. I’m in love with you.”

That made you stop breathing completely.

“And I know we always flirt and joke around but it’s real for me and I know it is for you too. Why do we keep torturing ourselves? Why don’t we just let go of the fear and see where it takes us?” Taking off his signature necklace, the one he holds close to his heart the one with his mothers band on it, and he holds it up for you to see it clearly. “You see this? When I met you I knew this ring was meant for you, I just didn’t know how to approach you with it. Now I am, and I know you’re afraid about what could happen to one of us in the future, but to be honest I don’t care about what could happen. Because I would rather us be together whole heartedly in love with each other for only one day, then to continue putting ourselves through this cycle of suffrage, and not having the chance to show it at all. I know you’re afraid but we can’t let fear dictate how we feel about each other anymore. So what do you say?”

“Poe”, you sigh. “Poe I have lost to many people to this war, if let you in now and something we’re to happen to you, the pain would be unbearable. And don’t say you promise you won’t leave because that’s not a promise you can keep, no matter how loyal you are. Trust me many have, and their deaths still way heavy in my mind.”

“I wasn’t going to make you that promise because that is not in our control, you’re right. But I can promise you that I will love you unconditionally till the day I die whether that be on the battlefield or after we grow old together, I’m going to love you. So what do you say?”

“…”

“It’s ok you don’t have to answer right away I know it’s a lot to think about and pro-”

“Yes.”

“What.”

“Yes. I love you, and you’re right, no more hiding behind fear, its just me and you from now on, the good and the bad.”

The joy that Poe felt go through his body was one he had never felt before. Fumbling a little to get the ring off of his chain and put it on your finger but you stop him, and the hurt and pain in his eyes caused you to elaborate more on what you meant.

“I mean not right now. I want to receive this ring at out ceremony, just hold on a little bit long because I will be expecting that ring to be on my finger very very soon.”

Pure joy goes through Poe’s body from head to toe and he was smiling so hard that his cheeks were hurting. And he did something that he has been wanting to do since he laid eyes on you. Faster than you can comprehend he stands up from his chair and smashes his lips onto yours. Catching you off guard but you quickly recover, melting into the most explosive and head spinning kiss you’ve ever had, no scratch that you’ve never had a kiss like this before. It’s a good thing you’re already laying down in the bed because if you weren’t you were sure your knees would have gave out on you. You both pulled away after a few more quick pecks, and just sat there holding hands, staring at each other. Talking wasn’t needed to know what the other was thinking. Both of you wondering how did you get so lucky.

————————————————————

A/n: Running on a couple hours of sleep from last night. But I can’t believe I got this done in only a few hours. Would’ve been a lot sooner if tumblr didn’t erase the whole ending so I had to rewrite what I remembered. Which I am not completely satisfied with because I liked the original ending a lot better than this even though similar. Curse tumblr and my foggy brain I should sleep but that’s most likely not gonna happen anytime soon.

@theidiotsincontrol @book-place

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #20 (Part 1)

Guys how has it already been 20 whole weeks time isn't real. Anyways speaking of, we're reading PKNA #16: Extraordinary Repairs which is a huge deal cause it means that after waiting 20 whole weeks I CAN FINALLY DOXX CAMERA 9'S FULL LEGAL NAME AND ADDRESS!!! IT'S S-

Okay FINE I guess I'll wait to say his name until we actually get to the right part in this post. And idk why I've even prevented myself from saying his real name in front of my friends that are going through this series for the first time cause it's not even like a secret or revelation, they literally tell you his name at the end of Day of the Cold Sun in his character sheet, but nobody reading the English fan translations would know that because nobody has uploaded translated versions of the character sheets (yet...) ANYWAYS

Just as a heads up to anyone who is reading this comic for the first time, the English translating here is a little scuffed (I assume whoever translated this chapter wasn't a native English speaker) so there are occasional grammatical mistakes but nothing too severe that it limits the effect of the story!

Angus I can PROMISE you do not want to start doing research into Everett Ducklair, do you know how many fuckin doomsday weapons he kept "accidentally" making??? You don't want the smoke.

What kind of fucking idiot steps into an elevator shaft without stopping to see if the elevator is ACTUALLY THERE omfg I hope he hits the bottom and dies

GUYS HE SAID THE- HE SAID THE TITLE OF THE CHAPTER!!!

ALSO HDL MENTION 🔥🔥🔥

guys.... there he is.... the man of the hour

shoutout to the way the other guy is drawn in this panel btw (his ears fell off I guess)

OHOHOHO TRENCHCOAT REVEAL!!! GUYS I AM GIDDY AND I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I JUST THINK HE'S NEAT

HE SAID THE THING

why he ourple

OHHH YEAHHH IT'S YA BOI STEFAN MOTHAFUCKIN VLADUCK!!! Who appears to be constantly having a series of PTSD-related war flashbacks but ummm let's not worry about that right now

It's really interesting to me that Donald is a fan of Stefan's work. I mean media was obviously different in the 90s but still, when's the last time you heard someone bring up their favorite photographer? Either Stefan is FAMOUS famous or Donald is one of like 10 people that like to read the credits under newspaper photos.

This panel makes me laugh cause out of context it looks like Stefan is running away from PK (on account of his huge torn up fucking evil looking cape) bro is literally FNAF 2 jumpscaring at him

I FUCKING TOLD YOU

Coolest character design of all time (literally just a duck in a trenchcoat)

What have you seen WHAT HAVE YOU SEEN. 200 page comic docuseries covering all of Stefan's horrifying past experiences NOW!!!!!

You're telling me Ducklair was in his basement building fuckin DINOSAURS??.... ok I can't lie that's cool as fuck good for him

So close except actually not close at all. Granted PK does hang out in Ducklair Tower all the time, but it's not like Angus knows that 😭

Love how much this laser gun just looks like a regular pistol

Me reading poorly written analysis posts of DT17 sorry

I love evil fucked up PK can we keep him like this actually

PAPERINIK MURDERS ANGUS FANGUS IN COLD BLOOD (REAL)

Nvm we just gave him a concussion. also hi Stefan 👋

Also we drugged him. Y'know just for good measure!

NO FUCKING WAY YOU GUYS EYEBALL REVEAL 🔥🔥🔥 HE HAS GREEN EYES. or at least one green eye... I guess he could have heterochromia or something whatever

btw this is the most we'll ever see of his face so SOAK IT IN FOLKS (at least, the most we'll see in PKNA, there's like one singular comic from 2016 that shows his entire face if you're curious. You can just google his name and the photos will come up.)

SHOUTOUT TO THE LITTLE CAMERA 9 END HERE IT'S SO SILLY.

I love this issue, Camera 9/Stefan is probably one of my favorite characters. He's just fuckin cool man idk what to tell you. He's fairly inconsequential in the grand scheme of things but I like having him around, he's a fun character to add as a little bit of flavor to a series with so many ongoing narratives. I do wanna highlight this bit of text from the bottom of his Paperpedia page (which has been auto-translated from Italian and might be a bit off):

I'm so incredibly intrigued by the analysis here because, if true, I wanna know whose idea it was to start referencing classical Luigi Pirandello literature in a Donald Duck comic. I'm not saying I don't want my duck comics to have commentary on media sensationalism and alienation, but I am saying that it's certainly unexpected. Still a welcome topic!

I used most of my image limit covering the main comic so I won't be able to add a lot about the bonus comic but I will say: WAHHH WAHHHH THIS IS THE LAST TRIP COMIC 😭😭😭 at least for a while anyways. There are the Trip's Strip comics but I haven't seen anyone translate those into English and they also start at like chapter 40 so

Is the Raider just fucking allergic to dressing normally like what's going on here. Also HAHA TRIP THOUGHT HIS DAD DIDN'T COME TO THE GAME BUT HE WAS ACTUALLY WATCHING THE WHOLE TIME, EVERYONE POINT AND LAUGH 🫵 YOUR DAD LOVES YOU HAHAHA LOSER

Goodbye Trip, my sweet summer child... my child who sucks so fucking bad. He's the worst I'm gonna miss him. And ummm see you later with more spooky Carl Barks!

[keldae]

Fluff sentence starters :D “You have something in your hair - let me get it for you.”

There were fringe benefits to being friends with people in the theatre program, Xaja mused – like being invited along on field trips to see plays, and easily filling her volunteer hour requirements during production week. But there was a definite downside as well – and that was the day the main production's set came down after the last performance.

It was fine, she decided inwardly. It wasn't like she had two research papers and a personal reflection paper due in the next couple of days and didn't have time to be taking apart a set, right? She grunted as she crawled behind one of the main set walls, power drill in hand, and desperately hoping there were no spiders back here.

"Having fun yet?" The cast hadn't been spared the set strike chores either – but Arcann was entirely too cheerful a mood for someone who'd gotten bonked upside the head by a wardrobe rack fifteen minutes ago. He appeared to be on the same task as Xaja in taking apart the walls of the set.

"Oh, tons," Xaja responded, looking around for another screw in the bracket holding the set together. "How's the concussion?"

"Bah, I'm fine. Don't stand up." Arcann reached over, and Xaja heard the whirring of his own drill over her head. She sneezed as sawdust started to drift down in front of her eyes.

"Sorry," Arcann apologized. The drill stopped, and he fumbled with his prosthetic left hand with the screw before pocketing it. "Any more on that bracket down by you?"

"Yeah, two that I see." Xaja grunted as she shifted her weight, working to take apart the bracket. "Someone's on the other side of this, yeah?"

In response, Arcann peeked through the window built into the wall. "Hey, you might want to catch these walls," he called out, then waited a moment before nodding in satisfaction. "Yes, we're good. I think Professor Vowrawn recruited some help from outside the theatre department."

"Wonderful," Xaja grunted, inwardly wondering what the flamboyant theatre professor had done to lure in some more poor, unsuspecting souls. "Hopefully he brought 'em in from the sports teams."

Without looking up, she didn't see Arcann's mischievous grin. "They're warm bodies with muscles, they'll be fine," he said, then gave the wall a slight push. "Incoming!"

With a creak, the wall fell forward, caught by several pairs of hands. "Got it!" crowed a voice that immediately made Xaja's head jerk up. It was bad enough having a crush on the cute guy who lived across the dormitory hall from her, but if he saw her like this, in a grubby t-shirt and jeans, with dust all over her makeup-less face…

Dammit. That was Theron Shan, helping to carry the wall section away with Jonas and Koth's help. Maybe he hadn't seen Xaja in the chaos? But why did that prospect make her heart hurt just a little bit?

"You are about as subtle as an elephant," Arcann muttered, under the sound of Professor Vowrawn guiding the guys as to where he wanted the set wall placed; when Xaja glanced over, she could see him smirking, the gesture pulling at the scars over the left side of his face. "Liking checking him out?"

"I – what?" Xaja flushed as red as her hair. "I'm not checking Theron out!"

Arcann's grin widened. "I didn't say Theron…" he pointed out.

"... Fuck." Xaja groaned. "We're just friends, and I don't wanna wreck that." She glanced back over at Theron for a moment. "... Not my fault he's got a cute backside."

Arcann snorted a laugh, one that turned into a cough when Xaja glared at him. "Sorry, sorry… it's just hilarious to watch. I can put in a good word for you with him, if you want…"

"... I don't have a crush on him! And I don't need a wingman!" Xaja hissed. She firmly squashed the little voice in her head that wondered if Arcann's help might not be a bad idea. "He's not interested in me. If he was, he would have said something before now."

"... You two are perfect for each other," Arcann muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" Xaja demanded, suspiciously glaring at him.

"Nothing!" Arcann coughed again, then looked over. "Next wall will be easy, should only take two of you to catch."

"I like easy!" Jonas' cheerful voice piped up. When Xaja looked over, she saw him, Theron, and Koth all standing close by, Professor Vowrawn tittering over another piece of the set being taken down.

"Yeah, we know that," Theron dryly commented – Jonas promptly glared at him as Koth and Arcann burst into laughter. The taller student then looked back at Xaja, and winked at her. "Made friends with any spiders back there yet?"

Trying to not feel self-conscious about how she looked, Xaja shook her head and grinned. "If I had, you would have heard the screaming from the dean's office."

Theron chuckled, then paused. "Hang on, you have something in your hair," he said, as the set wall to Xaja's right came down, carried off by Jonas and Koth. "Lemme get it for you." He reached forward; Xaja froze as she felt his fingers brush through her long red hair, knocking more sawdust free of the tangled strands. "There – I think that's the worst of it."

"... Thanks," Xaja murmured, feeling her cheeks go warm again at Theron's gentle touch. What she wouldn't give to feel his hand in her hair again, combing his fingers through the red locks, gripping her head and pulling it back for a kiss, like what she enjoyed reading in the Tumblr smut that Kira teased her about…

Theron grinned, then dropped his hand, looking unsure as to what to do with his arm. "Yeah, don't mention it. Figured you wouldn't wanna go around with sawdust in your hair and–"

"Aww, well wasn't that a sweet gesture!" Professor Vowrawn swooped in, beaming like a proud parent. "You two make such a lovely couple!"

"I–!" Xaja stammered, looking at Theron for a second (who appeared to be wide-eyed with panic), then back at Vowrawn. "We're not–!"

"She's not–!" Theron exclaimed in the same breath. "We're just friends!"

Vowrawn didn't seem convinced. "Oh? A pity. I shall still expect you both to audition for the leading man and lady for our next production – the chemistry you two have is what every production strives for! Now, you'll need to practice before that audition, make sure you're set in your–"

"Professor!" Theron squawked. "I'm not an actor! Xaja and I are just friends!"

Vowrawn grinned. "Nonsense, Mister Shan! You two are very good friends, I take it? Very… close to each other–?"

"Not like that!" Xaja yelped, wishing she could melt into the stage floor – or glare holes into the professor's head. She could feel the rest of the strike crew staring at her and Theron. "We're just… that would be weird!" But a good weird, she silently thought to herself.

"What she said!" Theron emphatically agreed. "Why mess up a perfectly good friendship like that?"

Tsking, Vowrawn shook his head. "Well, if you two are certain, then your next task is to clean out the green room. Chop chop!" He briskly clapped his hands, dismissing the two victims of his torment – Xaja willingly took the chance to escape with Theron. And if it meant time spent with him, without anyone teasing her about her crush on him, so much the better.

Neither she nor Theron saw Vowrawn sashay over to Arcann and tap his shoulder. "I have a bit of an extra task for you, Mister Tirall."

"Yes, Professor?" Arcann asked, looking over at the Pureblood professor curiously.

"An extra ten percent added to your overall grade for my class this semester if you can set those two idiots up somehow."

Arcann grinned. Academic credit for fulfilling what he (and the rest of the dorm) considered to be a necessity? "Done."

[mianavs]

the assault

In Lima with You part 4

a/n: this marks the beginning of the end for this story. like previous parts in this story and it’s predecessor, there’s some messed up stuff going on in this part.

tw: non-con, dark content, nsfw, violence

wc: 1.7k+

In Lima with You

You had been scrubbing for a good thirty minutes, yet the bright red from the tomato sauce you’d spilled on your living room carpet was still there.

Glaring at you

Mocking you

Wiping off the beads of sweat that trickled down your brow with the back of your hand, you ran the scrubby through the bucket of soapy water that was now a milky salmon color. After wringing the scrubby of the excess liquid, you went back to scrubbing that spot while ignoring the growing ache in your fingers and the knot in your neck.

It’d been a careless mistake, spilling your spaghetti while your mind had been elsewhere—a common occurrence since the night your fragile world fell apart when Dabi walked out on you.

Almost as careless as the mistake of letting your captor into your heart where he left a mark that spread until it encompassed the entire thing.

A mistake you were now paying the price for, on your hands and knees trying to scrub the mark stain away only to realize it had spread in spite of your efforts.

You fell back on your haunches and threw the scrubby into the bucket. It had been five days since you’d last seen Dabi, and you were starting to lose it.

Every time you heard footsteps outside of your front door, you would rush over and swing it open only to face nothing or a bewildered stranger. The room that had once suffocated you with warmth was now frigid and made it difficult for you to fall asleep in. Your mornings started with you waking from a nightmare that almost always involved Dabi’s death. While at the beginning of his absence you could still go about your day cooking, cleaning, or engaging in a hobby, you eventually spiraled into a depression that made it hard for you to even get out of bed.

Not only was Dabi the death-sentenced protagonist of your nightmares but he was also on your mind all day. His face during your last argument was one that had been burned into your memory. You could still see the blank look that flashed in his cerulean eyes, the twitch of his mutilated mouth, and then the shock that seeped from every pore in his body as he staggered away from your enraged form.

You’d been the one wronged that day, yet Dabi was the one that fled, leaving you with an all-consuming guilt. It didn’t make sense but then again neither did the overwhelming pain festering away in your heart the more time passed without seeing him, touching him, loving him.

Love. It was a ridiculous notion when you thought about it.

Dabi had been the monster that kidnapped you. He’d broken you down physically and mentally to mold you into the obedient darling you now were, but even with the plethora of scars all over your body, you couldn’t help but feel empty without him. Even with the door unlocked and nothing chaining you down to your shared condo, you would leave only to roam around the city for a couple of minutes before a panic seized your entire body; It was that suffocating panic that forced you back home to the comfort of your bed that still smelled of Dabi’s musk and smoke.

You loved Dabi.

You needed Dabi.

So as you dumped the soapy water down the kitchen sink and washed out the bucket, you mulled over your options in tracking Dabi down to tell him how you felt. Then just as you were putting the bucket away, the muffled sound of footsteps captured your attention and you dashed to the front door on impulse.

Where a scarred face with a wicked grin should have greeted you, there was only a red winged man with astonished eyes.

“Y/N,” Keigo breathed. “You’re really here.”

You looked behind him, searching for the man you actually wanted to see. When it was clear he wasn’t there, you turned to your former friend.

“Where else would I be?” You asked before stepping aside to let him in.

“I assumed you’d be with the League,” He answered amusedly, walking in while you shut the door behind him. “But I guess this was a no ex-heroes type of mission.”

“Where’s Dabi?” The question burst from your lips before you could think it through.

Keigo’s smile faltered at your desperate inquiry, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Last I heard they were two cities away wreaking havoc in true League fashion.”

You raised an eyebrow at his mocking tone. “Sounds like you don’t approve of the mission.”

Keigo laughed at that and it left a bitter taste in your mouth. “How about we drop the act, Y/N. It’s just you and me. Dabi isn’t here to punish you.”

His eyes traveled to a fading scar on your forearm before returning to your face. “We both know that what they’re doing is wrong.”

A bitter laugh tore from your throat as you approached him. “So the HPSC selling me for some intel is right? Them drugging me and sending me off to an orphanage is right? How about them trying to sabotage my career? Does all of that seem right to you, Keigo?!”

You were now in front of him, and he had the decency to appear sheepish after your rant. He averted his gaze and said nothing while you let out an exasperated sigh and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Don’t give me that right or wrong crap.” You retorted when your anger simmered. “Hero society deemed me a villain before giving me a chance to prove myself. I won’t stand in the League’s way if they want to bring it down.”

Keigo’s hand shot out and wrapped around your elbow, fingers pressing into one of your scars. You tried shaking him off but Keigo didn’t relent.

“What about the thousands of innocent civilian lives that will be ruined because of them? Will you also stand aside when they’re screaming for their lives?”

His golden eyes bore into yours and memories of a certain mission hit you like a ton of bricks. You remembered the room full of children that you’d saved with Keigo, and for the first time in weeks, you hesitated in defending Dabi and the League’s actions.

“We’re targeting the heroes and the HPSC, not civilians.” You reasoned, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

“We’re?” Keigo sneered, backing you against a wall. “Are you serious?”

At his aggressiveness, the alarms in your head went off but indignation muffled them. You jutted out your chin defiantly. “Yeah, I am. As long as Dabi remains in the League, I will too because... I-I love him and tha—”

Keigo smashed his lips against yours and took hold of your hands before pinning them above your head. Unlike the first kiss he stole from you, this one was harsh and meant to punish. He claimed your mouth with his invading tongue while you wrestled against his bruising grip. It wasn’t until you realized he wouldn’t let up that you bit down on his tongue until he hissed in pain and released you with a curse.

With the metallic taste of Keigo’s blood in your mouth, you tried recovering your breath only to hear a harsh thump that was immediately followed by pulsating pain on the side of your head. You doubled over from the sheer force of Keigo’s blow that left you debilitated and vulnerable.

And that was exactly what Keigo wanted.

In your stupor, you were picked up like a ragdoll and thrown onto your bed, landing face down on a pillow. The sudden motion only worsened what you assumed was a concussion. As a sharp ringing assaulted your ears, all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you in a weak attempt to stop the room from turning.

So when rough hands pulled off your shorts and ripped off your flimsy lace panties, you were too busy burrowing your spinning head in a pillow and swallowing bile to put up a fight. The severity of the situation finally registered with you when you felt the bed dip and rough hands lift your waist until you were on your knees.

By the time your body reacted, it was too late. Keigo pressed you into the mattress with your hands pinned behind your back as he settled between your legs and spread them open with his body.

His cockhead prodded at your entrance a couple of times before he forced it into your dry cunt in one harsh thrust. Horrified and unprepared, you screamed into the pillow that still smelled of Dabi while Keigo violently took you from behind like an animal.

Pain was all you knew throughout Keigo’s assault. It pulsated in your head until it felt like your skull was being split in half. It coursed through your arms that were pushed together and pressed into your back. It ripped through your cunt as Keigo’s cock rammed into you without mercy.

Concussed, restrained, and without your quirk and voice, all you could do was lie there and wait for your body to produce the slick you oh-so desperately needed to ease the ache in your cunt.

Without changing the pace of his hips, Keigo leaned over you and grunted into your ear.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N? I’m doing this because I love you and right now you’re sick. That so-called love you feel for that bastard is a disease. You have Stockholm Syndrome and I’m gonna cure you with each load I shoot up your womb.”

He let out a chuckle and licked the shell of your earlobe, causing bile to surge up your throat. Unable to swallow it down any longer, you used all the strength you could muster to jerk your head over the bed’s edge.

As you regurgitated that day’s lunch, Keigo’s thrusts ceased and he released you with a disgusted grunt.

“Rude bitch,” he growled, pulling you by your hair and pressing his torso against your body. “I tell you I love you and that’s how you react?”

Keigo shoved your face into the mattress and you writhed beneath his weight and grip as your lungs were depleted of oxygen. When your limbs went limp against the bed and black specks stained your vision, the last thing you heard was Keigo’s honeyed words delivering your sentence for falling for your captor.

“Guess I’ll have to take you away from him for you to be cured.”

[rinkrats]

🥺 that mike lange story. But also those tags #sid loooves christmas #he loves giving presents #looks good in red #piles on the pounds fast #post hockey career as santa 😂😂👌🏽👌🏽

he loves his mementos and presents and is COMMITTED to them. scrapbooking. matching jackets. little pills with hidden motivational messages~*~ his love language is gifts and neck smooches and stalking geno. relevant right now are some anecdotes i sent a friend earlier this year for dorky sid gifts fic fodder:

1. Crosby's constant thoughtfulness would be impressive from anyone, much less someone of his stature.

"Sid always texts me happy birthday, he's always asking me like, how's Russia?" Evgeni Malkin said. "We talk and message all summer. He asks me how my skates are. He knows, like, everything. He follows my Instagram, I think (laughs)."

In addition to having a handle on those little details, Crosby is constantly providing those around him with memories and mementos. If the team is on the road and goes, say, sightseeing or to a sporting event and takes a group photo, Crosby will later send a framed copy to everyone.

When Ron Hextall and Brian Burke watched their first Penguins game in person, Crosby is the one who approached head equipment manager Dana Heinze and asked for two used game pucks to give to the new GM and president of hockey ops. 

After the Penguins won in 2009, Crosby had jackets made for the three players on the team who had scored a Cup-clinching goal in Game 7: Talbot (Pittsburgh), Ruslan Fedotenko (Tampa Bay) and Mike Rupp (New Jersey).

"They were blue jackets with gold buttons, and each one had a patch on it that said 'GWG Game 7,'" Talbot said. "At one of our first team meals the next season, he presented us with the jackets and did a big ceremony with the music and stuff. We had a private room in the restaurant. I still have the jacket."

-The Consummate Teammate, Captain and Ambassador, Feb 2021

2. Merz: My first interaction with Sid was when we were on the bench, guys were talking about a teammate, and the first thing this 15-year-old says is, “Hey, guys. Let’s keep everything positive. Don’t talk about your teammates that way.”

Salcido: When we were getting ready for nationals, he found these little pills that you could put a hidden message inside. They unscrewed, and inside was a tiny scroll. He gave one to every teammate. … He had everyone fill one out. He didn’t tell anyone what to write, but he made it known that we all knew what the goal was: winning nationals. So we wrote on our scrolls, rolled them up and put them in the pill thing. We kept them with us everywhere we went.

-‘Is this real?’: Stories of Sidney Crosby’s year at a Minnesota prep school, May 2020

3. On “Butterfly Boy” Jonathan Pitre:

Though the Senators are his team, Sidney Crosby has always been Jonny’s favourite player. After the TSN documentary airs, Tina gets a call from the Penguins. Sid needs Jonny’s measurements. He wants to have a suit made for him by his personal tailor, Domenico Vacca.

“It’s the kindest, sweetest gesture,” Tina says. “Sid heard that Jonny went to a lot of games, so he wants him to look like he’s one of the guys.”

“I want him to feel like a pro,” Crosby says. “Here’s a guy who is going through something so painful, and his first thought is always, ‘How can I help others?’ When I was young, I’d watch on TV the players coming to the rink in their suits. That was a cool part of being an NHL player. I want him to feel that, to make it as real as possible for him.”

Tina tries to discreetly measure Jonny while she’s changing his dressings. But he’s way too smart for that.

“Um, Mom, why are you measuring me? Am I going for surgery again?” he asks.

“No, no!” Tina replies, trying to reassure him and come up with a good lie, all in the same breath. “The doctor needs them just to make sure they have proper dressings next time you are in.”

A few weeks later, the sharp navy blue suit shows up at their front door, along with a couple of ties, an autographed stick and a handwritten letter from Sid. 

“His eyes just light up,” Tina says. “Jonny always liked to be well-dressed, and he just loves having his own suit. It fits perfectly. He looks so good in it.”

-Beauties by James Duthie (2020)

4. Pascal Dupuis inspired his Pittsburgh Penguins teammates on their run to the Stanley Cup, and Sidney Crosby found a special way of driving that message home.

Dupuis retired in December with lingering health concerns because of blood clots. Despite his NHL playing days coming to an end, the veteran forward remained an integral part of the Penguins and was in uniform to hoist the Cup after Pittsburgh's six-game win against the San Jose Sharks in the Stanley Cup Final.

On Sunday, Dupuis brought the Cup home one last time as a player to share a special day with his family, friends and hometown fans.

"Yes, it does feel bittersweet a little bit," Dupuis said. "You get the Cup, you want to celebrate. But at the same time I got a gift by the mail [Saturday]. Basically, it's a book of all the pictures of all the good stuff we went through. It came from Nova Scotia, so you guys can figure out who it came from (Crosby), but he couldn't give it to me during the season, he saw me skating a little bit.

"And he sent it [Saturday], before my day with the Cup, so he knew what he was doing to get me right here," Dupuis said, putting his fist over his heart.

-Pascal Dupuis shares Stanley Cup with family, friends, Aug 2016

5. In 2011, Crosby was out of the lineup with a concussion, and the Penguins made their annual visit to Children’s Hospital.

Crosby got along so well with one boy there and was so touched that he later asked Bullano to go back... just the two of them, no cameras, no attention.

When Bullano and Crosby met for the follow-up visit, Crosby appeared clutching a pair of Toys “R” Us bags, filled with a Transformer toy the two had discussed.

“He literally bought every type of this toy they make,” Bullano said. “[Crosby] had never seen it before and thought it was so cool.

“There are no pictures of this. There’s no video. He was laying in the bed with the kid. They were just playing. We were there for over two hours. I got to know the mom really well because we were just sitting there.

“The kid had no idea. Didn’t expect it. They had no idea he was coming. We got there and he said, ‘Hey buddy. hope you don’t mind that I came back.’ The kid couldn’t believe it.

“[Crosby’s] crazy cool about stuff like that.”

What’s crazy is trying to recount the many times stuff like this has happened with Crosby:

• The Little Penguins Learn to Play program has been around for nine seasons, outfitting now 1,200 kids with free head-to-toe hockey equipment. Not only does Crosby serve as the face of the program — which the NHL has now adopted — but he helps fund it, too.

“There’s an awareness of what a person in his position can bring,” Penguins vice president of communications Tom McMillan said. “I think he activates that as much as anybody I’ve seen during his playing career.”

• After a recent practice, Crosby noticed a local family in the Penguins dressing room, approached them, introduced himself, learned their story and wound up giving them a signed stick.

Nobody asked Crosby to do that, and he wanted zero credit when discussing it a couple days later.

“For people who have the opportunity to come in here, people dealing with certain things, if you can brighten their day a bit or spend some time with them, it’s something that’s special for all of us,” Crosby said.

• A few years ago, through a team charity event, Crosby befriended a 4-year-old Amish boy with cancer. Crosby remarked to Bullano how much he loved talking to the boy because of how engaging the boy was and how he wasn’t consumed with technology. Crosby even tried to visit the boy but learned he had passed away.

• He learns the first and last names of the kids who attend his hockey school in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia.

“Two kids came from Japan its first year,” Bullano recalled. “He was so blown away by that. He couldn’t wait to meet them.”

• Earlier this season, the Penguins welcomed Grant Chupinka, 24-year-old cancer patient, into the dressing room. Crosby chatted up Grant and his parents, Steve and Kim.

He spent his usual time — about two or three times the requirement. Gave the tour. Then found out the Chupinkas didn’t have tickets for that night’s game and decided he would pay for them to go.

“I’m sure he could just give them an autographed puck or something, but he takes his time to go out and see them and talk to them and get to know them,” Brian Dumoulin said. “It speaks volumes for him and who he is as a person.”

Spend any length of time with Crosby during his visits with those less fortunate, and a few things become obvious.

One, Crosby is really good at these. Smooth but not in a slimy way. Sweet. You know how when you’re around someone talking and they go out of their way to make eye contact with everyone around? That’s Crosby.

He’s also humble, always introducing himself like those he’s meeting don’t already know. Holding a hand is no issue. And Crosby is the rare 20-something pro athlete without kids who acts every bit like he does.

“It is not an easy situation to talk to someone with terminal cancer,” McMillan said. “A lot of people couldn’t do that. He has an amazing ability to do that and make that person feel good.”

Crosby has welcomed several Make-a-Wish kids and tries, if at all possible, to schedule such events for practice days — to maximize the time he’s able to spend.

He’s developed a special friendship with Patrick McIlvain, a soldier who nearly died when he took a bullet to the head in Afghanistan. McIlvain actually does physical therapy with one of Crosby’s sticks.

A former club hockey player at Cal U, McIlvain comes by every year, and the Penguins don’t even bother to tell Crosby. Either he already knows or immediately stops what he’s doing to come say hello.

“He’s not doing it to leave a legacy,” said Terry Kalna, Penguins vice president of sales and broadcasting. “His numbers leave the legacy. He’s just a down-to-Earth, good guy.”

Before a visit, Crosby has Bullano email him what is essentially a scouting report on who he’s going to meet. He likes to learn about them, their situation and what they’ve been through. As much information as he can ingest. Crosby never just swoops in, shake a hand and leave.

“As much as anyone has ever seen, he accepts the responsibilities of being not just a professional athlete but a star professional athlete,” McMillan said. “He views it as part of the job. Like coming to the morning skate. That’s just what you do.”

Put another way, “he owns those moments,” says Kalna.

Said Bullano, “He’s just a good human being.”

-When it comes to giving, Sidney Crosby does as much as he can, Feb 2017

6. When Crosby received a generous signing bonus on his Reebok deal, he wanted to share it with everyone.

“He gave everyone on the bus gifts,”  says Oceanic radio commentator Michel Germain. “Him sharing his bonus with all the people he’d been travelling with for two years, that impresses me greatly. I think the most important thing about Sidney Crosby is his personality and the kind of human being he is. What he exuded. The inner richness he’d already developed.” 

-Superstitious and generous, Dec 2006

7. also this simply because it makes me ;w;

Even in defeat — no, especially in defeat — Sidney Crosby proved why he wears the "C" for the Penguins.

After the game, with his heart sinking and his season over, the Penguins’ captain bent over, sank to the ice to pick up the puck, took it to linesman Tony Sericolo and then skated to his team’s handshake line.

I immediately thought of a View from Ice Level I’d written on Crosby making sure a retiring official was sent away from PPG Paints Arena properly. I knew picking up the puck wasn’t for the same reason that was, but I also knew, in some way, it was connected to Crosby’s awareness and respect of the game.

“It was for the Islanders,” Crosby told me after the game, his eyes swollen from a first round exit – by way of a sweep to make it worse. He told me how the winning team always wanted the puck, and it was his way of providing it for the Islanders.

Crosby looked me right in the eye as he told me this, just as he did with every other member of the media to come to him after the loss.

I could tell from those swollen eyes and the way he sat at his stall, by himself with his hands folded as he stared blankly, that Sidney Crosby is much more used to being on the receiving end of a puck when a series ends than he is at retrieving it for the winning team.

That scene. His swollen eyes. Staying in the locker room until most had left – talking to anyone who needed him. Most of all, though, picking up the puck that prompted my question in the first place and making sure the right people got their piece of their own history.

It all adds up to one thing: In victory and in defeat, Crosby respects the game above all else – just as he’s always done.

-Even in defeat, Crosby shines, April 2019

[thefallennightmare]

Amnesia

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x Reader

Words: 2551

Warnings: A few swears, ANGST(lets be real, what else is new?), and some fluff. 

Summary Request: Sebastian and reader broke up like a year ago and one day she receives a call from the hospital and they tell her that Seb had an accident and she’s still his emergency contact so she goes to see him because she still loves him. And when he wakes up he has amnesia and he doesn’t remember they broke up, so he thinks they’re still together and the doctors tell her she has to play along because telling him the truth can be damage for his brain and he has to remember on his own?

A/N: Here is the very long awaited request someone sent in. I’m so incredibly sorry this took SO LONG to write but life got away from me. I really hope you like it and it was well worth the wait. 

The double doors in front of me opened with a breeze as I quickly walked up to the small lady behind the front desk. She was chatting with another girl but the conversation immediately ceased when I walked up. 

“Hi, can I help you?” Her tired voice asked. 

Guilt raked me when I realized exactly how late it was but knew that this was normal for them. 

“Uh, my name is Y/N Y/LN. I got a call from Dr. Stone that someone was admitted to the emergency room,” I stuttered over a few of my words.

“Can I have the patient's name?” The nurse clicked at her computer.

“Sebastian Stan.” 

I hadn't muttered that name in so long that it sounded so foreign on my lips. 

The nurse's ears perked up and she crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m going to need to see some I.D.”

Muttering some not so nice things under my breath, I slid my I.D over to her and smirked in triumph. “Can I go see him now?” 

“Room 5 on the right,” she nodded behind the desk, where the doors to the emergency room opened. 

A large breath left my lips as I slowly walked towards the room, preparing myself for what I was about to see. The phone call I received said that he had fallen while doing a stunt, hitting his head hard on the mat below him. Thankfully he wasn’t severely injured but what worried me was what the doctor had stressed on the phone. 

He thinks it is April of 2019. 

That was over a year ago.

He had amnesia but the doctor was very optimistic that it was temporary and that he would remember everything soon; I needed to be the one to help him with it. 

“Y/N?” 

My feet came to a halt at the deep voice behind me and I gave the man in a leather jacket a soft smile. “Hey Anthony. How is he?” 

Mackie smiled. “He’s good, all things considered. He still thinks it's April of last year.”

“So he thinks?” I trailed off.

Anthony nodded. “The docs think it’s going to help him if you play along, pretend you two are still together.” 

I let out a soft sigh. “I don’t think I can, Mack. We exactly didn’t have the easiest break up.” 

“I know but anything to help him get better, right?” 

I nodded, agreeing, and with a quick hug goodbye to Anthony, I entered the room trying to ignore the doubts that filled my mind. 

He laid in his bed, the T.V in the corner playing a soft tune of FRIENDS reruns but his eyes weren’t watching it; they were trained on me. 

“Hey babe, I was wondering when you would get here.” He went to sit up in bed but hissed in pain. 

“Seb, relax. You don’t need to sit up, you should be relaxing,” I chastised him. 

Pulling the chair next to his bed, I sat down and hesitated before taking his extended hand. His hair was much poofier than I remembered and the amount of grey hair in his beard had doubled. The bags under his eyes were deeper than the last time I had seen him, his work schedule weighing him down. 

“What happened?” I questioned. 

Sebastian squeezed my hand. “I fell while doing a stunt. Doctors said I smacked my head really good.”

“Did they say when you could leave?” I asked. 

“Tonight. They suggested that you watch me closely, in case I do have a concussion.” 

My heart sank. We had to spend the night together? 

Biting my lip, I quickly nod. “Of course, Seb.” 

Silence fell between us and it took him a second to notice something was wrong.

“Are you okay?,” he questioned while lifting my gaze to meet him. “You seem distant.”

Swallowing the large lump in my throat, I tried my best to reassure him with a nod. “Yeah, I was worried about you, that’s all.” 

My heart hammered in my chest when I felt his soft lips graze across my forehead. “I’m okay, babe. I’ll be even better when we're back home in bed.” 

I felt my body stiffen at that thought of us in bed together. How could I play it off that we were still together and in love when truthfully, we should hate each other? We broke up over a year ago and it was the nastiest one I had ever experienced.

We hadn’t spoken one word to each other since that night but I couldn’t help but feel warmth fill my heart knowing I was still his emergency contact. 

Tonight was going to be fun. 

“Need anything else, Seb?” I questioned after getting him set in bed. 

The flat we used to share looked exactly the same, as if I never left. The clean pile of clothes still had a permanent residence on the large grey chair in the corner of the room; Seb never having the time to put them away. 

The light from the moon still cascaded it’s way through the bay window, causing beautiful shadows across the hardwood floor and across Seb’s face. 

“Just you in bed with me,” Seb gave me a cheeky grin. 

I couldn’t help to mirror it before nodding. “Give me a few minutes, I want to freshen up before bed.” 

Eyes followed my every movement as I rummaged through the dresser drawers, remembering where Seb kept his shirts and sweats. My body froze when I saw the picture that sat upon the dresser. It was one of us when we were vacationing in Greece and we were standing in front of the Acropolis. 

I couldn't help but pick it up, smiling at the fond memory. 

“We should go again,” Sebastian's voice said from behind me. 

I nodded. “It was a great trip, wasn't it?” 

Tears brimmed at my eyes but before he could say anything about it, I scurried into the master bath, letting the door quickly shut behind me. While I freshened up, I tried everything to not let this whole situation bother me. 

How could I pretend to still be with Sebastian, knowing what I know. There was a point, long ago, that we were happy. We loved each other, more than anyone knew, but the love wasn’t enough for the doubt that weighed us down. 

“Y/N?” 

A soft knock tapped against the door. 

With a quick sniffle and wiping away my tears, I quickly opened the bathroom door. “You okay?” 

Sebastian looked at me with a worried look. “Were you crying?” 

I shook my head. “No, I’m fine.” 

“You shut the door. You never shut the door,” Sebastian noted. 

“Oh,” my fingers gripped the dark wood, forgetting that I always used to keep the bathroom door open when we lived together. 

Sebastian's fingers laced with my own and with a gentle tug, I followed him to the bed. Before I knew it, my head was on his chest and his strong fingers raked through my hair. The familiar feeling made my stomach flip and I bit my lip, hoping the tears didn’t force their way out. 

“I know you were scared from my accident today but I promise babe, I’m okay.” Seb’s soft voice comforted me. 

No words were finding their way through my throat so all I could do was nod. I allowed myself to look in his gorgeous green eyes and with one quick look, I told myself that this was going to hurt like hell when this was all over. 

Just like it did when we broke up. 

The domestic bliss found its way between us and I allowed myself to melt into his embrace. My finger traced circles on his bare chest while he rubbed my back. 

“You know what I noticed,” Seb’s voice spoke. 

“Hmm?” 

“You haven’t given me one kiss tonight,” He pouted. 

My body froze in his embrace and he immediately noticed. I sat up in bed while Seb reluctantly let me go. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I cried while getting out of bed and starting to collect my things. 

“Y/N, what is going on?” Sebastian questioned. 

“You honestly don’t remember anything?” I asked after taking a quick pause while putting on my shoes. 

When he shook his head, I couldn’t stop the word vomit that spit out of my mouth. 

“We broke up, Seb! Over a year ago!” 

He shook his head. “What?” 

Pinching my eyes together, I let out a large sigh. “The doctors said you had amnesia and the last thing you remembered was April of last year. We broke up last July.” 

“I’m confused. Then why are you here?” 

“The doctors thought it would be best if I played along, to help you remember on your own but I can’t do it anymore. Knowing how we broke up and why; I can’t pretend that we are in love when you actually don't anymore.”

I could see in Sebastian’s eyes that he still wasn’t believing what I was saying so I pulled out my phone, letting a voicemail play on speaker.

“Y/N, I know that we’re not in the same city right now and this is a terrible way to do this but I can’t do it anymore. We’ve been apart for almost a month now and I’ve come to realize that I can’t keep stringing you along. I need time to grow and focus on my career, I can’t have someone waiting for me back home when I don’t even know when the next time I would be coming home. It’s not fair to you to wait for me; for someone that can’t keep his promises. I’ll be home next month so that gives you time to move out. I’m sorry.” 

Silence fell throughout the flat, the sudden look of remembrance flashing across Sebastian’s face. 

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “I remember.”

“You broke up with me with a fucking voicemail. A three year relationship ended with a goddamn voicemail!” I yelled. 

“I was scared,” Seb defended. 

My eyes doubled with anger. “Don’t give me that bullshit again, Seb. We went through this already. I just want to get my things and go home.” 

I went to run down the stairs away from him but he stepped in front of me, stopping me. 

“I never meant to hurt you, Y/N. It wasn’t fair to you for me stringing you along. I was only thinking of you.” 

“Give me a break, Sebastian! You broke up with me then a week later you were seen with some blonde chick!” I yelled. 

Sebastian ran a hand through his hair and his shoulders fell. “It wasn’t what the media made it seem like.” 

“Did you sleep with her?” I asked, the same question that I had asked him the last time I saw him. 

“No,” Seb answered without hesitation. 

The same answer he gave me last time. 

“I can’t keep having the same fight, Seb. It’s exhausting. I was finally in a good place with myself. I was getting over you then got a phone call telling me you had an accident. My world stopped. I thought you were seriously hurt, Sebastian. The second I saw you, all those feelings came back.” 

He stuffed his hands deep in his sweat pockets and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.”

“Do you think we could ever go back to how we used to be?” I asked. 

This time, Sebastian hesitated. “I don’t know. My brain is still so fucked from my fall today. It’s hard remembering some things.”

I nodded, reluctantly getting my things together before walking away. “Let me know when you do know, Seb.” 

The same heartbreak I felt a year ago resurfaced as I realized that Sebastian was letting me walk out of his apartment and out of his life; again. 

My T.V played a soft tune in the background as I browsed through my phone, trying to let another boring day pass. My fingers had a mind of their own as I typed away a certain username on Instagram, wanting to know what he was up to. 

Nothing new. 

No posts or stories. 

Sebastian had been M.I.A on instagram for over a month now, since before his accident. 

And since the last time we had seen each other. 

We both had no contact with each other, not knowing where we stood. Or even in there was something between us to hold us together. I knew it in my heart that even though how we ended was terrible, I still wanted to be with Sebastian. I wanted to be like how we used to be but there was a doubt lingering in my mind; would he want the same? Would he even feel the same? 

The clock on the wall struck midnight, the chimes sounded loud bouncing off the walls of my small apartment. 

A soft groan left my lips as I stood up and started making my way towards my bedroom, however, a persistent knock on the door locked my feet in place. 

My eyes darted to the bat that laid against the wall next to the door. Who was at my door in the middle of the night? 

“Y/N?”

His deep but yet soft voice immediately eased my fear. Before I could even second guess my decision, I found myself opening the door. 

Sebastian stood in front of me, his hair way more fluffier than the last time I saw him. The stubble on his face had grown in and I smiled at the few grey hairs peeking its way through. He looked distraught, his thoughts keeping himself up the last few nights. 

He let out a few deep sighs, hesitating a few times, something deep on his mind. 

We both stared at each other for a few moments, the lust and love that we felt when we were together clouding around us. It encased us in our own bubble and without a second thought, Sebastian was crossing the threshold attacking my lips with his own. 

My hands gripped his hips while his own found their way through my hair, gently pulling on the roots. The kiss was one of those ‘hungry, teeth smacking, and lip biting’ kisses; the kind that made your head spin and insides melt. 

Reluctantly, we broke apart to take a breath but not before Seb placed another chaste kiss on my lips. 

“I know the way I ended things was a dick move and I should have broken up with you in person.” 

My vision was still blurry from the kiss so all I could do was nod. 

“If you still want me, I’m here. If you want me out of your life for good, just say the word and I’m gone. But if that kiss means anything to you as it did to me, I know that I’m right where I need to be.” 

“Lock the door,” I mumbled against his lips. “We have a year of catching up to do.” 

My giggles sounded throughout the apartment when I felt Seb toss me over his shoulder, carrying me up the stairs towards my bedroom. 

[ithehellisbucky]

forget me not

spencer reid x reader

Request: No

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, drowning, murder, drug mention, etc

Summary: You and Spencer don't realize you love each other until it's almost too late

Author's Note: First thing in like fucking forever, so yeah. This was originally a request and then I was at school and I couldn't look at my request so it was way off script, so I just did my own shit, this also takes place in the 5th season, in the middle just after hayley dies.

~

"The unsub is a white male between the ages of 35-45. His modus operandi is drowning in the great lakes, he's already struck Superior, Michigan, Ontario, and Huron, so we expect Lake Erie to be next." Hotch says, glancing at his phone every minute or so. It's his third case back since Hayley died, and he's picked up a habit of waiting to hear bad news.

"This unsub has recently developed a hallucinative disorder where every face he sees has an emotional connection. There were no discernable connections between his victims which leads us to believe that his mind is filling in the gaps at random." Reid says, gesturing abstractly at nothing at all in particular.

"This disorder was likely triggered by a recent brain injury connected to the Great Lakes so keep a lookout for any recent accident victims. He was very social until the accident, and after it he immediately became anti-social. He was probably in a relationship recently, but then broke it off, he is not married, but possibly has children, which he will not shy away from using in a hostage situation." Morgan exclaims as he leans against a desk.

"His victims are all over the place, so we advise everyone to be on high alert. There is no pattern to the murders, from a 51-year-old single mother of two to a 14-year-old on vacation." You pause and take a breath, looking back down at your notes. "Someone out there knows this man, so we implore you to tell as many people as possible, our Media Liaison Jennifer Jareau will be setting up a press conference, and it is very important to get this out to as many people as possible."

"Won't that just spook him more?" One of the sheriff's deputy says, with a concerned look on his face.

"Yes, but at this point, he will kill again no matter what, it's better to have the public be informed because he will take another victim, whether we find him during or after is up to us."

He nods, and looks down at his notepad, badly masking his disturbed grimace.

"Thank you and let us know if you have any leads," Hotch exclaims, closing the meeting.

You walk up to Spencer "I bet we're their favorite people right about now." You say, sipping on your coffee.

Reid avoids your eyes and continues to fidget with the chess piece that he probably stole from one of the officer's desks. "What's wrong Reid?"

"I dunno, I just have a really bad feeling about this one," He picks up his cane and walks away. When Spencer has enough he needs to walk away, and as long as he wasn't hurt that was fine with you.

"Reid, y/l/n, Garcia's got something." Morgan raps his knuckles on the doorway and calls you into a conference room. "Hey babygirl, what do ya got for us?" He exclaims, shifting the call to speakerphone.

"A luscious blonde mane and an intense yearning to hold you." Emily giggles a little bit and Garcia can probably feel Hotch's glare "oh come on Derek."

"Sorry baby, keep goin'."

"I have a name. One Larry Todd. 3 weeks ago he was in a boat accident in which he had a severe concussion and was unconscious for 3 days. He immediately broke up with his girlfriend Shelby, which she was very angry about, adieu to her Facebook page. His ex-wife reported that he missed his last two visitations with his daughter Amelia." She takes a pause "he owned a bait shop that's been closed since his boat was destroyed in the accident, and it's listed as his last residency.

"Fits our profile to a tee," Emily exclaims.

"Thanks, Garcia," Hotch says, hanging up the phone call. "Emily, JJ is in the conference so run out and let her know. Morgan and Rossi, go to the bait shop with SWAT, and Reid and y/l/n go to the ex-wife's house; Emily and I will stay here and see what else we can dig up."

Everyone goes their separate ways. The sheriff takes the driver's seat, with you in the shotgun seat and Spencer in the back. You can hear the clang his leg makes against his cane and his foot bouncing.

"I'll take the daughter, and you can have the ex-wife."

"Okay," responds Spencer.

The ex-wife Miranda opens the door sobbing when you knock on it. "Excuse me, ma'am, my name is Agent y/n y/l/n and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid, do you mind if we ask you and your daughter a few questions about your ex-husband?"

She continues to sob but lets you in. You look back to see the sheriff playing video games on his phone and you scoff.

Spencer sits down with the crying woman and you politely ask if you can speak to her daughter. She tells you yes and that Amelia is around back.

"Bye, Reid." You blow a kiss to Spencer and walk out the door, shaking a sinister nagging feeling itching at the back of your neck.

You walk across the pavement and open the gate to enter your unsub's former backyard. "Hi Amelia, my name is y/n, I'm a friend of your mommies."

Beginning to grow more suspicious, you pull out your gun and triple-check to make sure it's on safety. If Todd is there you know that he would be fine with sacrificing his daughter for his own goals and you wouldn't let that happen "Amelia? Is your daddy here."

"Boo!" A little girl with pigtails holding a stuffed rabbit jumps from behind the recycling bin and you chuckle, putting your gun away in your holster. "Did I scare you?"

"You sure did!" You laugh. "Wow, that's such a pretty bunny, where did you get it?"

"My daddy got it for me." She said, showing off her gap tooth.

"That's so cool! Do you remember what it was like when he gave it to you?" You kneel to be at eye level with the child.

"Yeah, he was super cuddly, now he's a little more pokey, but that's okay." She says, playing with the bunny ears.

"When did he get pokey, Amelia?" You hesitated, something was off "I just want your daddy to be cuddly again."

"A little bit ago. He used to tell me stories till I fell asleep eeeeeverynight, but then he stopped for a week and when he came back he was like a big lion."

You had a growing sense of paranoia budding in your spine, why was she telling you all this so fast? "What type of stories?"

"He used to tell me princess stories, but after he stopped for a week he talked all about ones about the scary lady who tried to take me away, but then he stopped her! And the boy who was being dangerous so he had to make sure that she didn't hurt me." She exclaimed absentmindedly.

You start to pull your phone out of your pocket until Amelia starts talking again "and just now, he was talking about the bad knight who tried to take me away."

Your jaw dropped and you tried to find the best course of action, but by the time your brain started working it was too late. He walked up behind you and whispered into your ear "Nighty-night."

And then everything was black

~~~

"Hey, mommy."

"Yes, sweetheart?" She quickly wiped the tears off of her face to turn to her daughter.

"Can I have ice cream?"

"Of course sweetheart" she gives me a small smile and gets up towards the kitchen. "Where's that nice agent that came here with Dr. Reid?"

"They weren't a nice agent, they were a bad, bad, bad knight, and they were trying to take me away, so daddy took them instead."

No.

Oh no.

No no no no no no no no.

Where were they? Where was y/n?

I pulled out my gun without a second thought and left my cane behind, I ran as fast as I could without it, and by the time I was in the backyard my knee was burning and they were gone.

~~~

You woke up halfway through the drive. The road switched from smooth the bumpy a million times over, and it smelled like bees. Not like honey, not like pollen, like bees. Just bees. It smelled nice, but you don't want to die smelling bees.

You wanted to move. Move your body, move your head, move your eyes, move anything, but you couldn't move. Nothing could move. There was a sweaty tv shirt shoved between your teeth. Your hands were bound with bristled rope and there was metal all around you and you were certain that this was the back of a van. At first, you thought there must be a blindfold over your eyes, and then you realized that they were just too tired to open.

There was an old country song playing over the radio, a love song about a family in a house. The truck stopped shaking and he pulled the ignition. A growing sense of dread filled your stomach as he walked around towards the back of the truck. He opened the door and you saw his face.

That could only mean one thing- you weren't leaving here alive.

~~~

Within minutes crime scene techs were on the scene, but I knew they wouldn't find anything useful. The only thing that was there was the absence of y/n and our distraught profile.

"They were right here, right here, they were- they were right here, right here." Hotch looked at me somberly, and Morgan rubbed my shoulder with sympathy.

"We need to update our profile," Emily said, there was no time to waste, "we know what this guy does to people, and if he would risk abducting an armed federal agent in front of his daughter there's no doubt they in danger."

"We know Emily," Everyone looks at me kind of funny like I've said something wrong, but at this point, I don't care what anyone thinks of me, "His reason for doing this was for his daughter, he took out anyone he saw as a threat, a motherly figure, someone who could be her older brother, anyone who was a threat and wanted to take Amelia away from him.

"His disorder is fairly undocumented, being exactly the opposite of prosopagnosia, where patients disassociate faces from their loved ones, causes him to feel emotions about people he's never seen before, and his subconscious is assigning meaning to them at random, picking up anyone shows the slightest twinge of distaste.

"y/n picked up more than a twinge, they were there to take his daughter away, so he likely believes they're the mastermind." Everyone looks at me and waits for me to say the thing we all know is coming "he's not going to kill them before they suffer."

As we hitched a ride back to the station my leg was bouncing like crazy and my fingers were tapping the numbers of pi into the leather of the car door. Emily put her hand on my shoulder but I couldn't feel her, y/n missing was the only thing I could feel.

"Garcia I need you to check if Larry Todd owns any vehicles large enough to hold a person, trunks, vans, trucks anything," Morgan says into his speakerphone once we get back to the station.

"Oh god it's true, he really has them?" I can hear the distraught coated thick on her voice "do you think they're in pain, do you think he-"

"Garcia we don't have time for this, does he or does he not have any vehicles in his name." I snapped, I could apologize later when y/n was in a hospital bed.

"No, but you know I'm never one to go to bed early, and it turns out his great uncle died a year and a half ago, but his van was pulled over and given a speeding ticket a few months ago, how much do you wanna bet that's our guy and not a psychopath's uncle."

"Thanks, Garcia," Rossi hangs up the phone and turns to one of the sheriff's deputies in the room, "put out an ATB on that van."

"Okay, I'm gonna go through the medical files again, see if there's anything I missed," Hotch catches my arm.

"There isn't, right now all we can do is wait and look." He pauses "we've sent out patrol cars to look for the van, go out with Morgan, and circle around Lake Erie."

"Hotch, what if- what if we don't find them, or we find them and it's too late, or we find-"

"Right now she's alive, you said it yourself, he's not gonna let her die so easy."

As disturbing as it is hearing that someone you love more than anything is being tortured, I found it strangely comforting. They're alive. They are alive. They are prepared. After Tobias took me they brought me to a CIA torture seminar, just on the off chance that anything happened, I wouldn't break again.

I stared out the window of the passenger side of the SUV. Morgan wasn't talking, he knew what I was feeling, because he felt it before, when it happened to me.

"We've got a report of the vehicle going down sunmist lane" the scanner jumps to life.

I had memorized the map the second we landed; "we're five minutes away" and then, quietly under my breath, I whispered, "I'm coming y/n."

~~~

He held your head underwater for the 7th or the fiftieth time. You can't remember. You can't remember. You can't remember anything other than the water under the dock filling my lungs.

"What do you want with my daughter?!" He screamed at you as he pulled you out again, You vomited up all the water that my body could muster. You didn't know he had a daughter.

You forgot everything you learned to do. You forgot to pretend it was affecting me, You forgot how to hold my breath, You forgot. You forgot everything.

Except for Spencer, Spencer's smile, Spencer holding you, Spencer missing you until that was gone too.

Everything went away but the water.

He kicked you back off the dock again, and for a second you gasped for air, and then you sank, nothing even mattered anyways.

The man pulled you out again and kicked you in the ribs; you felt something rip inside of you and you screamed as loud as you could, which was more like a whimper.

"Larry Todd put your hands up!" Two men came behind the man who drowned you, you couldn't remember them, but you could remember the rip in your ribs filling with water.

He shoved you back into the water and you didn't even try to fight this time, you just sank, feet after feet after feet of water. You didn't hold your breath, you didn't care.

A figure appeared above you, and you saw the angel. He had a shimmering brown halo and a beautiful bright face that looked terrified, just like an angel.

And then he pulled you up.

~~~

This might be heaven, but it might be hell. You can tell the room is white without opening your eyes. There's a steady beeping sound to your left and it smells like chlorine.

When you finally manage to open your eyes you wished you hadn't. All you see is lethargy around you.

JJ is drooling in her sleep while Emily is asleep on her shoulder, Garcia is snoring in the corner with her knitting in a pile next to her. Morgan and Rossi are nowhere to be seen, but you can't blame them, seeing people they love getting beat up over and over again never gets easier. You can hear the faint sounds of Hotch arguing with someone over the phone in the hallway.

But worst of all is Spencer. He's wide awake and his foot is tapping like crazy on the ground. There are deep and dark eye bags surrounding his eyes and hints at a beard forming on his face. His cane is tossed uncharacteristically on the ground, and he pays it no attention whatever.

You open your mouth to speak, but when you do a stabbing pain shoots through your diaphragm and you gasp. The second Spencer hears you he shoots up and kneels next to the bed, which must be no easy feat.

"Hey, how are you?" He strokes your hair as gently as he can.

You try to speak but no words come out.

"Do you want some water?" You nod, trying to not feel pathetic. The second the glass of water comes into your eye line you knock it out of his hand and it goes shattering onto the floor, waking everyone else in the room up.

You start to cry, feeling guilty and scared about why a glass of water could've terrified you so much. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay, it's just a bunch of sand made into something you can drink out of, it's not a big deal, don't worry." That calms you down a little bit.

You look around to see the rest of the team cradled around you. "How are you feeling honey?" Garcia whispers as if speaking too loudly would mortally wound you.

You reach up and touch your throat, and it burns. There's more confusion, and then JJ is getting her hand cut on the glass she was cleaning, Garcia was whispering too loudly and Emily was touching your arm, and Hotch and Morgan and Rossi were walking in the room and Spencer was pushing a button on your bed and the monitor was beeping and then you were screaming.

Screaming so loudly, screaming in pain, screaming in fear, screaming in confusion, screaming because you were overwhelmed and sad and scared. "Everyone gets out," Spencer says, and everyone quickly does, he knows you best, and right now, everything was too much.

"Wh-what happened" you whisper, throat and lungs still hurting but since you had screamed the worst part was over.

"The unsub kidnapped you, and tried to drown you, your heart stopped in the ambulance, but they brought you back." You remembered "You had been dunked in the water and brought back up at least 15 times, not including when I brought you out.

"You needed 53 stitches and had a punctured lung when we found you." He pauses "You're safe now, we have him in custody and he can never hurt anyone ever again." You let out a breath that you didn't know you had been holding.

"I'm so sorry," You were crying "I forgot you, I'm so sorry. He made everything go away but the water I'm sorry that I forgot you."

"It's okay, it's okay, you didn't do anything wrong, you were trying to stay alive." He stroked your hair and held your hands gently "He tortured you, when Hankel tortured me all I could think about were the drugs and the pain, you didn't do anything wrong, you survived."

"I survived?"

"Yes."

"Can I tell you something?" You chuckled, your tears had stopped but it was still wet on your face.

"Anything."

"I thought you were an angel when you saved, and now I realize that you weren't my angel, it wasn't magic, and it wasn't godly." Spencer looks puzzled, and you paused to take a deep and painful breath "It was the fact that I am so deeply in love with you, that seeing you love me back felt like heaven.

Spencer stares at you, his mouth closed and his mouth on the floor "You don't have to say anything, just know that-"

His lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence. For a moment you forget about the pain in your throat, the burn in your lungs, and the agony all over your body; it was just Spencer.

You pulled away for breath, your breaths dancing with each other.

"I was so scared" he whimpered in fear.

You stroked his hair gently "I was more terrified than I had ever been. I was so horrified that I would wake up tomorrow and my reason for living would be dead. I was more scared than I had been when I thought my dad killed a kid, I was more scared than when Hankel tortured me, I was more scared when I realized that I loved drugs more than my own life.

"You were the person that held my hand when I was hurting so bad I would forget to breathe, and then you weren't here because you were the person in pain and I realized that I loved you because nothing hurt me more than the fear that I could lose the one thing in the world that made me feel okay."

He takes a deep breath and looks at you as deeply in your eyes as you thought could ever be possible. "I love you too, and I promise you I'll never let you go."

His lips meet yours, and through a kiss, you whisper "I'll never forget you again"

And you knew that you had Spencer and everything is going to be okay.

~~

My Masterlist

Requests are open!

~Taglists are open~

Permanent Tags: @natasha-danvers​

Marvel:

Criminal Minds:

[sunshineacd]

Drifting Beneath the Horizon

Carlos is regretting ever doubting that a hike could not be dangerous.

Written for day one of @911lonestarangstweek

[3373 words]

AO3

“Be safe, I love you.”

“I’ll promise as long as you do, I love you too.”

It’s the last thing that he and TK had said to each other as Carlos was dropping his boyfriend off at work. It’s something that the two of them had become accustomed to saying before departing for their days. Carlos remembers rolling his eyes at TK when he had said it to him that morning, TK knowing full well that Carlos was just going on a simple hike with Paul and not walking into something incredibly dangerous. But he’s regretting ever doubting that a hike could not be dangerous.

TK’s words echo in his head now as he lays on his back, staring up at the blue sky above him. It’s a beautiful sight really. But he can hardly admire it with the pain surrounding him, a feeling that he can’t quite place and when he tries to move, he’s met with a blinding pain. Black dots swim through his vision and there’s a ringing in his ears. Blinking against the sun, his vision begins to focus, though still hazy around the edges and suddenly he’s looking at Paul instead of the sky. His friend has a look of complete worry and fear in his eyes and Carlos has no idea why, they are hiking, supposed to be having fun, bonding. There should be no worry.

But when Paul’s gaze meets his, his features soften. “There you are. You scared me.”

Scared him? What would he have done to scare Paul? He didn’t mean to. “What happened?”

Carlos attempts to move again but is met with the same resistance of the pain along with a wave of nausea that nearly makes him pass out. Paul shakes his head, placing his hand onto Carlos’ shoulder. “No, don’t move, Carlos. Listen, man. You slipped from the cliff face and fell.”

Well, that would explain the pain.

“I did?” Carlos asks. He doesn’t remember. In fact, he hardly remembers getting to the hiking trail in the first place. Carlos looks to Paul who seems to come to this realisation and his look of worry grows.

“Can you tell me what hurts?” Paul asks.

“Something tells me you already know.” Carlos whispers and he tries his hardest to focus on his breathing, on keeping his eyelids from drifting closed.

“Just humour me, Reyes.”

Carlos closes his eyes for a moment, trying to come up with an answer but finds that he’s very much unable to think, the thumping in his head having become more persistent. But for a single moment, he thinks he can feel blood on the side of his face, he wills away that thought and reopens his eyes.

“My head.” He mumbles finally.

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Paul says and Carlos feels pressure, along with softness against his skin. He flinches at the sensation and tries to move away. “I’m sorry, I have to try and stop the bleeding. I think it would be a safe bet to assume you have a concussion. Anything else hurt?”

Carlos goes back into his own mind, attempting to figure out if there truly is anything else but he comes up empty. He can’t really feel anything, which both relieves and scares him at the same time.

He decides on telling half the truth. “I can’t feel any other pain.”

Paul nods. “Alright, do me a favour and hold this to your head, okay? I’m just going to grab my cell from the backpack and see if I can call for help.”

Carlos slowly nods, the motion causing the nausea to return, hitting him hard. He bites back hard on the sickness as he raises a hand, taking Paul’s place in holding the cloth to his head. Paul moves from beside him and over to where Carlos assumes he had dropped his pack. He focuses on listening to what is happening, intent on staying awake. Having a paramedic as a boyfriend has surely given him the awareness he needs when it comes to concussions. But he struggles more and more, his eyes growing heavy with each passing minute and he slowly begins to slip, feeling his hand fall away.

“Whoa.” Paul says, alerting Carlos back to reality and he opens his eyes. He then feels the softness as the cloth is pushed back against his head again. “Hey, Carlos. Are you still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m here.” He whispers.

“Okay, you have to stay awake, alright? It’s almost over.” Paul says before he mumbles a curse. Carlos tilts his head to look and he sees Paul staring down at his phone in frustration. “I can’t get a signal.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

Paul chuckles lightly. “Yeah, it’s not ideal, that's for sure. I might - ah, nevermind.”

“What?”

“I just might be able to get some further up, but I’m not going to leave you here.”

“Yes you can.” Carlos says, too quickly for his own liking. He didn’t really want to be left alone but if it meant getting home and onto something more comfortable than a rock ledge, he’d be okay with that. “You have to go, Paul.”

“No, Carlos. I can’t do that. You’re hurt, I can’t just leave you here by yourself. Don’t even think about trying it, Reyes, you may be concussed but that won’t stop me from arguing with you.”

Carlos laughs, it’s barely there and it takes more power than he originally thought. “I’m tired.”

“I know you are, man. But you have to stay awake. I’m sure someone will come along eventually.”

He knows that Paul is simply trying to make him feel better but Carlos is sure he only saw two people walking and it had been in the opposite direction. But he wasn’t sure how long ago that would have been. He blinks a few times and the ringing is back in his ears, annoying him out of closing his eyes and going into the darkness. Carlos looks up and back to the sky, hoping and praying that someone will come along for them.

***

Carlos isn’t sure how long it’s been since he had fallen, having lost all sense of time. But the sky above him is now dark, stars dotting it and he thinks it must have been a few hours. Paul sits beside him, tending to his head wound and Carlos finds that his limbs are beginning to grow numb. Well, at least he can feel them now. He tries shifting, but finds that there’s a weakness in his limbs that prohibits them from moving. Paul seems to understand what he’s trying to do and so he helps him into a sitting position and leaning him back to the wall behind him.

“Thanks.” Carlos whispers, his voice thick with exhaustion and pain.

“You’re welcome. How are you feeling?” Paul asks as he reaches into the backpack for the water bottles.

“I’m okay. Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Where are we?”

Paul looks at him, freezing in his task of drinking from the bottle and he swallows hard. “You don’t remember?”

“No, not really.”

Carlos’ voice sounds weird to his own ears, like a different person’s words are coming from his mouth. “You hit your head and have a potentially severe concussion.”

Carlos frowns and lifts a hand to brush over where Paul had set gauze onto the wound on his head from the first aid kit. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Okay, I’m going to try for service again.”

Carlos nods and leans his head back, closing his eyes. It’s a welcomed relief that doesn’t last for long as he feels Paul’s hand on his shoulder. “Just five minutes.”

“No, Carlos. You can’t. I know it’s hard, man. But you just have to stay with me. Shit, there’s still nothing.”

“You’ll have to go higher up for service.” Carlos mumbles as he opens his eyes once again, looking to where Paul is staring at him. “What?”

There’s a look in Paul’s eyes that Carlos hasn’t quite seen come from the other man before but he isn’t totally sure what it is. It takes a moment for him to speak.

“We already talked about this, Carlos. I am not leaving you here.”

Carlos certainly can’t remember the conversation but he knows that whatever version of him had it would have been saying the same thing. “You have to, Paul. It’s the only way and it’s not fair for you to be out here just for the sake of me.”

"It's not fair to you to be left alone here."

Carlos tries his best to throw him a look despite the weakness he is feeling. "That's a pretty poor argument, Strickland."

Paul seems to hesitate for a moment, staring down at the phone in his hands before he takes a deep breath. "Are you sure? I really don't think it's a good idea."

"I'm sure. It's the only way we will get out of this mess."

Another moment of hesitancy passes before Paul finally looks up at him. "Okay, if you're sure. I will climb up and as soon as I find it, I'll be back. I promise."

"I trust you." Carlos whispers and he tries his hardest to push out a smile. "Now go."

Paul stands and throws his backpack over his shoulder, before making his way towards the ledge. He stops in his steps, turning back.

"Don't die on me, Reyes." He says and it sounds a whole lot like a threat.

Carlos manages to chuckle dryly. "I can't. TK would kill me."

Paul nods, giving him a smile before he turns and disappears from Carlos' sight. The moment he leaves, Carlos finds himself relieved to finally be able to close his eyes and go into the darkness.

***

Carlos dreams; the first is when he was a kid, sitting in the living room with his father watching a baseball game, both of them screaming at the TV. The second is when he was a teenager, cooking in the kitchen with his mother, laughing and learning. The dreams go into memories of hanging out with friends and going to school functions. But then they switch and suddenly TK is standing in front of him, a bright smile reaching to his green eyes. Carlos can't get over how much he loves them sometimes, how much he loves TK.

But just as quick as TK is there, he's gone again, disappearing into thin air and then everything disappears, until Carlos is left with only the darkness again.

***

When he opens his eyes again, he's met with a gaze that he adores so much. A gaze full of love and comfort. TK. Carlos can't help but to smile at the sight of him and he reaches up to bring a shaking hand to TK's cheek.

"Are you really here?"

TK leans into his touch, nodding his head. "I am. We've got you, baby."

Carlos nods and his gaze moves upwards, hoping to find the sky but instead finds the top of what looks like a vehicle. As he moves it again, he finds that TK is in his paramedic uniform.

"Is Paul okay?" Carlos asks.

"Yeah, he's okay. Don't worry, he's on his way back with Judd. Everything is okay."

"You gave us quite the scare, Reyes." He hears Nancy say from his other side. He nods, taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes.

"Hey, I need you to keep your eyes on me, Carlos. We'll be there soon and then you can rest. But right now, I need to see those eyes that I love so much." TK says, tapping his shoulder.

But Carlos can't open his eyes and suddenly he loses control of everything. He can hear TK and Nancy talking, TK's voice sounding more frantic and all Carlos wants to do is reach out. But he can't. He can't do anything but sit and wait as his body continues to convulse before everything goes completely silent. Then nothing.

***

TK shifts for the third time in the uncomfortable hospital chair, pulling his knees up to his chest before reaching over to grab Carlos’ hand again. It’s been four hours since Carlos had been brought into the hospital, his seizure having upgraded his condition from moderate to severe. But despite the doctors telling him that they are hopeful, Carlos still has yet to wake up. TK stares at his boyfriend, the way that his chest rises and falls as he takes slow and easy breaths. He moves his hand until his fingers find Carlos’ pulse point and when he feels the gentle thrum, he feels relief wash over him.

A knock at the door startles him from his thoughts and he turns to look, finding Paul standing in the doorway, a tray with two cups of coffee in one hand and a package in the other. TK tries his best to smile as a way of inviting Paul into the room and the other man approaches as TK turns back towards Carlos. Paul takes the seat next to him and holds out one of the cups.

“I got this for you.” He says and when TK takes it, he extends his other hand that is holding the plastic package, which TK can now see is a sandwich. “Also this. I know you said you weren’t hungry but I really think you should try eating.”

“Thanks.” TK whispers, taking a sip of the coffee before setting it down and fiddling with the plastic tab on the sandwich. He knows logically Paul is right, he should be eating something but every time he tries, sickness just immediately takes over.

“Has there been any change?” Paul asks.

TK shakes his head, squeezing Carlos’ hand. “No, they said they are hopeful but he hasn’t woken up. His parents are on their way.”  

TK hears Paul shift in his seat before clearing his throat. “TK, I’m sorry.”

TK’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and he manages to pull his gaze away from Carlos long enough to look at his friend. “Sorry for what?”

“For leaving him. If I had just stayed with him then maybe—”

TK shakes his head, effectively stopping Paul’s words.  “Then maybe he would be in a lot worse shape. You did what you had to do, Paul.”

Paul shrugs, looking down at his coffee cup. TK has never seen his friend like this, the other man is always so confident. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” TK insists. “All I know is that you helped him and brought him back to me. Everything else doesn’t matter and I’m sure that he would think the exact same thing.”

“I could have done it earlier. He tried telling me to go before but I didn’t, I let it get worse before he was totally out of it.” Paul says, shaking his head. “I should have listened to him.”

“Paul, listen to me, if I know anything it’s you will drive yourself crazy with ‘what if’s’. It is a thought process that will exhaust you. You can try all you want, but it won’t change anything. The most important part is that you are both here and that you are safe now. That’s all that matters to me, okay?”

Paul nods, taking a deep breath. “That helps.”

TK smiles. “He’s strong, he’ll make it through. And when he does, he’ll probably yell at you for thinking like this is your fault.”

Paul chuckles, shaking his head. “Oh yeah, he definitely would.”

“Seriously though,” TK says, glancing back at Carlos. “All of that was just to say thank you.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. He’s my best friend.” Paul says matter-of-factly. “I’ll always look out for him.”

“And I’m glad he has you to look out for him when I can’t.” TK whispers before turning back towards Carlos. “I just hope he wakes up soon.”

He feels Paul’s hand on his shoulder. “He will, TK. Like you said, he’s strong and besides, he did say you would kill him if he didn’t wake up.”

TK can’t help but smile, even if it is just a small one and he shakes his head. But despite it all, he can’t help but to think about how he wouldn’t be able to live if Carlos didn’t wake up. He tries hard to push the thought out of his head, but finds it lingering there, weighing him down until he feels as though he is drowning in it.

***

TK gives up trying to sleep, his mind running at a million miles. His family had left, promising to return in the morning but he insisted on being able to stay. He knows he wouldn’t be able to sleep in their bed without Carlos beside him. He settles for scrolling through his phone, his tired eyes attempting and failing to focus on something. He sighs, putting his phone on the side table before curling himself back up into the chair and resting his head on his hand, closing his eyes. “TK.”

TK hears the familiar voice and feels his heart skip a beat. He’s not sure if it’s totally real or a product of a dream, but his eyes pop back open anyway.  He looks quickly to find Carlos staring at him through a half open gaze. It takes a few moments for his eyes to open fully and TK feels a wave of relief wash over him.

“Hey Carlos.” TK says, his voice gentle and he leans forwards, running his hand carefully through Carlos’ curls in hope of soothing him.

“What happened? Where am I?” Carlos asks, squeezing his eyes shut for a few seconds. “Why does my head hurt so bad?”

“You’re in the hospital.” TK explains. “You fell while hiking and hit your head, got yourself a pretty nasty concussion which resulted in a seizure. But the doctors say you’re going to be okay, everything will be okay. You’re safe now.”

Carlos takes a deep breath before swallowing hard. “Is Paul okay?”

“He’s fine, baby. Everything is okay, I promise. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“No,” Carlos whispers, reaching to grab TK’s free hand. “I’m good. Are you okay?”

TK chuckles, shaking his head. “Only you, Carlos Reyes, would ask me if I’m okay when you’re sitting in a hospital bed. Honestly.”

Carlos smiles and it’s one of the most wonderful sights TK has ever seen. “I can’t help it.”

“I know. I can’t help it either.” TK says. “I’m a whole lot better now that you’re here with me.”

“I’m glad.” Carlos mumbles, closing his eyes for a moment. “I saw you, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know like when you’re on the brink of death and you see your life flash before your eyes? You were there. You were the last thing that I saw, that I thought of before I went under. You were it for me, you are it for me. But I can’t tell you how relieved I am that I get to see your eyes again.”

TK feels an overwhelming sense of emotion at Carlos’ declaration and even with him attempting to hold them back, tears fall from his eyes. “You’re it for me too, Carlos. You’re everything to me. I think you’ll be everything to me for the rest of my life.”

“The rest of your life, hey?” Carlos whispers, his eyes blinking closed. “I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” TK whispers back before leaning up to place a gentle kiss to Carlos’ cheek. “Get some rest, baby.”

“Stay.” Carlos says as sleep begins to take him, his hand squeezing TK’s.

“I will. Always. I promise.”

And they are words that echo between them in that moment and that will continue to years into the future. As they spend each day falling more and more in love, TK finds that he'll always need Carlos by his side. That if anything had happened to the other man, TK was sure he'd fall completely apart. But as they sit with their hands pressed together and TK settled in as close as he can get to Carlos all those thoughts disappear. They are safe and together, and TK can be glad for that.

[phantaloon-books]

I was rereading the iconic reunion at baltimore and this came to me and I can't not write it (even though I have a half finished chapter waiting to be written for a fic for a whole different fandom but who cares right)

in which neil regrets realizes that the feds were on to something when they talked about witness protection program. brace yourselves, it's angst time bby. please bear with me, I don't write stuff like this, content and format wise.

so everyone knows what goes down in baltimore. everyone knows that famous college exy striker for the foxes neil josten has been the son of the butcher of baltimore all along, and that smth happened after he was kidnapped and tortured that resulted in the butcher and some associates to be killed. everyone knows that neil walked out alive, injured but alive. so when a few weeks, months later, associates of the butcher start getting raided and taken in custody, everyone knows exactly who opened his little mouth and revealed everything he knows (bc there's literally no one else who could know this stuff and would be willing to share with the fucking feds, no one has a death wish)

It's a slow process. It starts with the feeling of not being safe, which is ridiculous, because he hasn't been quite as safe as he is right now, with the foxes, his family, and most importantly with Andrew. They're on summer break, technically speaking, even if they're at campus for practice because they gotta train the new foxes. They're barely doing anything than hanging out together and training, but still Neil can't shake the feeling that something is wrong, that someone is watching him, but he doesn't say anything, because it doesn't make sense, he's just being paranoid, there's no need to panic.

Neil can swear he's being watched. He feels the dread whenever he's out of the dorm, when he's out running, when they go out to eat something, when they go to the mall, on their way to practice, at Eden's. But when he looks around there's no one looking, it's been weeks and nothing has happened, he hasn't seen anyone.

Neil can tell Andrew is growing suspicious of the way he checks out a place, the way his eyes trace every corner, every exit, because he's starting to fall back in old habits, and he knows Andrew hates it. But Andrew doesn't ask, he knows that Neil will speak when he feels ready, so he lets it go, even if he can't quite let got of the worry clawing at his heart.

But everything keeps going normally, things are fine, everything is fine fine fine. Neil doesn't talk about it, but it's fine really. Until it's not fine at all, but it's also too late to talk now because his head is fuzzy and throbbing, and he feels like he might throw up and he feels pain even if he's not sure where the pain is coming from. But he can't do anything now, he can't tell Andrew how he's been feeling dread for weeks, because a man whose name he doesn't even know but whose face is awfully familiar is standing right in front of him where he lies on the floor, and the situation is also awfully familiar.

Stop being a martyr. Oh Andrew would kill him. If Neil gets out of this alive, Andrew will kill him, because he left again. He didn't want to, he really didn't. He was out on a run while Andrew was in therapy with Bee and Aaron, a couple miles away from fox tower, when a car pulled up right in front of him, two men wearing hoods and sunglasses stepping out and standing in front of him. He came to a halt, trying his best to keep calm because who the hell were these men and what did they want and for fucks sake can this just stop? It would have been smart to turn around and try to get back to the tower but he can't ever keep his mouth shut can he?

"Look I don't know who you are, I don't care what you want, but you're in my way, so move away if you know what's best." He intended to go for more sarcastic, but he was doing his best not to panic, so that had to do.

"You're coming with us, get in the car, or we'll do this the hard way." Their voices said they wouldn't hesitate, but Neil laughed anyway, that smile he knew was the Butcher's resting on his lips. Anything to make the men leave. He opened his mouth and then- "The Minyard twins are at Dr. Dobson's office. Reynolds, Walker, and Wilds are at the mall. Hemmick, Boyd and Day are in the dorms. The newbies are at the dorms as well. Come with us the easy way and we'll let them walk out of their respective places alive, Nathaniel."

And he was fucked. Of course he hadn't been safe, he would never be safe. In fact no one he cared about would ever be safe. He should have known better. But he wasn't going to let the foxes be harmed.

"How do I know you won't kill them anyway?" The snark was gone, the smile vanished. His face was blank and dangerous, because he'd done this before. "I don't even know who you are, you're obviously not the big guys, and I don't remember seeing your faces."

"We don't want to attract unnecessary attention. All we care about is you. If you come, you spare us all the trouble. As for who we are, let's just say someone is pissed at the piece of shit that ruined everything."

"The Butcher's friends then. I can't argue with that, it's a habit of mine to fuck up. Ichirou won't be too happy if something happened." He played his strongest card but fuck it. The Moriyamas owed him protection, Ichirou himself had made a deal with him.

"The moment they turned their backs to the Wesninski and made a deal with Hatford, those Japanese shits mean nothing to us." These were desperate men apparently. If the Moriyamas were nothing, the FBI was even less. "Time is running Nathaniel, decide. You or them?"

Andrew would kill him, but they'd talked about it before. Neil had told Andrew. If it means losing you, then no. He would not put himself first. Hell, he'd told the others before, the Foxes were all he had, he wasn't going to risk them for himself, not for anything. He needed to keep them safe.

So now he's lying on the cold wooden floor of some house or shed or whatever, drowsy from whatever they drugged him with once he got in the car, and in pain after being beaten for the last hour or so. He didn't bother asking the man (who is obviously in charge and sent the two men) for a name, and honestly he still doesn't plan to. What was the point of that anyway? He just looks up at the cold brown eyes of the man standing over him, Neil's face as neutral as he could keep it despite the fear of not making it out alive threatening to pull him under. The man just stares at him, calculative eyes and cruel smile, and Neil can't take it.

"What, so you're just gonna stand there? I have better shit to do." He hears the slur in his voice, wonders if it's just the drugs or something else. A concussion is likely. He's met with silence, so he closes his eyes and lays his head down. Fuck he's tired of these situations. He truly will never be safe, no one will-

"You know, I was expecting so much more from you Nathaniel," the man says with a laugh, "I was told that you'd put up a fight, I thought this would be fun. They said you'd beg for your precious life, but you haven't even made an effort."

Whoever his source was, they definitely do not know Neil, or Nathaniel for that matter. Not only is he not going to risk the men hurting the others, but he isn't going to fight, not against so many of them, not when running would be more likely to get him out alive. He isn't going to let them know that. "First go fuck yourself, and second, this isn't remotely close to entertaining to what I've been through, maybe if it was more interesting."

What does Andrew say? Regret is worthless? It seems right, because he can't find regret in what he said, even if his face is a bloody mess (what's new?) and his body shakes with shivers, after his head is held underwater so many times. No, he doesn't regret it. Instead he finds himself laughing a hollow thing.

"Y'know at least others have had a point, this time it's just for the fun of it, and it's not being much fun." His voice cracks a couple times, hoarse from coughing up water.

"You're right though, it is for fun. You cost me absolutely everything Nathaniel. Did you know the feds and the Moriyamas have been after us for months? Hunting us like we're rabbits, all because you decided to be a dipshit and open your mouth. You should be dead. You should have died ten years ago, back in March, anytime. All your existence caused us is trouble. And ratting us to the feds wasn't enough was it? No you told Ichirou all of the Butcher's men were loose ends, too." The man took a deep breath, composing himself. "So yes Nathaniel, this is for fun. This is payback, you've cost many lives, this is retribution for speaking, and I'm gonna enjoy seeing you have fun for as long as I can."

At some point, after hours, he's left alone in the dark, in the cold. He knows he’s in pain. He’s pretty sure his arm is broken, and so are several ribs. He knows he should be in a lot of pain, but he's just numb. Regret is worthless. Because even if he feels even worse than how he felt last winter at Evermore, he doesn’t regret it. He can’t be sure the guy’s men were truly going to kill the Foxes, but he doesn’t regret coming here to make sure the others don’t suffer more than they already have because of him. He wonders if Andrew will forgive him. He didn’t leave proof that he didn’t want to leave this time. Would Andrew think he left them - him? God, he hopes not. Would Andrew look for Neil or leave it thinking that Neil wanted to leave?

It doesn’t really matter, though. Neil is so tired. This time isn’t like when he was on the run or when he went to Evermore or when Lola took him. While with the Ravens, Kevin knew he was there at least, if anything were to happen, a person would know where to look somehow. At Baltimore, several people knew the most likely place to find him; Uncle Stewart, the Hatfords, Kevin again. He has no idea of where he is, or who took him, and no one knows he’s been taken in the first place. No one will ever find him.

Maybe it’s better that way, he thinks. No one will have to deal with the burden of him or his disappearance or his death, because no one will know. The simple thing would be to assume he ran. He hopes they assume he ran. Maybe they’ll be hurt, but haven’t they been expecting him to run? They won’t make it to championships without him considering Jack is an awful striker, but Kevin will manage. Andrew - Andrew is the one who expects him to run the most, maybe he’ll take it nicely. Neil hopes he takes it nicely. Guilt blossoms among the nothingness in his chest, but he can’t take it back, and he doesn’t want to. It’s better this way. No one will find him, but that’s fine. He wonders what the Moriyamas will do. He doesn’t want to think about that. He thinks of Andrew, the kisses, the care, the love, the nights spent together. Thank you, you were amazing. He wishes he could tell him how much he cares one last time. He feels something wet slip down his face. He can’t tell if it’s water, blood or tears. He sighs. He thinks of Andrew, and his eyes slip close.

[theyscreamjade]

Can you do Kiri, Iida, Izuku, and Bakugo with a s/o who goes deaf from a concussion received during a fight or even training. (I lost my hearing and I haven't seen much done for deaf readers. Thank you so much if you do respond hun.)

Severe Silence

Words can’t describe how I feel for you honey, Trust me, you’re not alone. I’ve always had hearing issues since I was born and they’re stating I may or may not lose my hearing in the future which hurts because music is my life and I can’t see myself without it. I hope this makes your day and if you need to talk, I’m always here.

Disclaimer: Slight Gore, Abuse and Acts Of Violence

————————————————————————————————————————

Eijiro Kirishima

* He remembers the whole accident that day because he was the one who carried you to the infirmary.

* It was training to see how you’d withstand during a earthquake and you were one of the following that was instructed to stand in a building.

* Aizawa wasn’t too keen on it but you insisted that you wanted a challenge.

* When the ground started to shake, wood, chunks of cement started tumbling down. You had your practice dummy to your back, running towards the safe exit with Ochacko and Shoji following close behind.

* Apart from the training, a ding would be heard when there’s another victim close by, you guys had the majority of them. Even though the earthquake ended, parts were still falling.

* You handed your dummy off and went off to find another one, and never returned.

* You were eventually sent to the hospital even though Recovery Girl healed you.

* You weren’t heard of for a while which worried your Sharky lover.

* During a free period, Baku-Squad including Deku, Momo, and Ochacko comes over to visit you.

* You were home alone and when you opened the door to see your friends, you couldn’t help but burst into tears because you couldn’t hear their excited voices to see that you’re fine.

* I do see Kirishima as the type to pull out his phone and ask you if you were okay through the notes app.

* You tell them back when you were grabbing the last dummy, you tripped and slammed your head into a large block of cement.

* Being the amazing boyfriend he is, he’s going to learn every possible way to speak to you.

* To sign language to even speaking as slow as he possibly can.

* He’s willing to do everything to make everything easier for you and to keep that gorgeous smile on your face.

* He knows how hard it is to lose something that you’re so used to having and it pains him to see you a tad bit depressed because you can’t hear him anymore.

* Just know he’s going to do anything that would seem impossible to help you through every step.

* This includes training, If you always relied on your ears he’ll help you try to find another way to smell a villain near you.

* He’s going to encourage you to keep going towards your dream and never give up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Izuku Midoriya

* His feet never ran so fast when you were found unconscious.

* During your first internship, You and Izuku were attempting to save Eri that day. Everyone was soon separated.

* When it seemed that it wasn’t going to be well, you sent him to go get Eri while you fought the villains with others.

* The mission was a success but came with painful consequences, You fought with a villain who was a tad bit advanced for you. You fought with all your might while the building warped and swirled.

* The last thing you could remember was the villain's backup appearing behind you and attacking you as everything became black.

* Luckily, One of the pro-heroes rushed over and defended you while their sidekicks quickly took you towards the medic.

* When Deku first found out, not even caring if he was injured or not. He wanted to see you. He wanted to make sure you were okay.

* It took him a while to see you and when he did, he was ecstatic to see you awake and responsive.

* He called your name but..you never responded, which confused him. He had to touch your shoulder, nearly giving you a heart attack as he asked what’s wrong and you just stared.

* Then, he knew..something was wrong.

* Upon finding this out, Izuku being the great and amazing guy he is will also take many precautions to learn to speak to you.

* His sign language is a tad bit rusty and sucks a bit, but give him a chance. He’s trying.

* In each conversation you two have, he’ll always make sure he’s speaking slow and you’re able to see his lips move.

* If he can’t speak or wearing a mask, he’ll either text you or type his words through his phone for you.

* He’s going to tell you that you should keep going on your fight to be a hero.

* Izuku will train with you and see if you two could discover a different method that you could use during battles.

* He will never give up on you and will always help you with your dreams.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katsuki Bakugo

* Everything happened so fast that even HE couldn’t keep up.

* One minute, You were kicking ass, destroying every villain in your way.

* Even though the attack was extremely random and with the permission from the teachers to fight these villains who interfere with your training for the fifth time in a span of a few years.

* Hell, you had your hero’s license so you had the right to kick their asses.

* You stood up, cracking your neck and fists before punching another villain back to the ground.

* Katsuki saw the purple blur flash past him as a large Nomu appeared to your turned back.

* Before he could even react, his body ran you over. His corrupted face looked down at what he did as Bakugo’s anger boiled over the surface. He grabbed the villain he was originally fighting and launched him into the Nomo before blasting them with his explosion as hard as he possibly could.

* No one hurts you. No one.

* It took Kirishima, Denki, Izuku, and lastly, a time-limited All Might to get him off the Nomo who he SURPRISINGLY knocked out.

* Once he could relax, he walks to your dorm. When he knocks and you don’t answer, it makes him worried.

* He won’t kick the door down..but..knock it off the hinges and discovers you crying on the bed.

* All the banging, knocking he did and you didn’t react while he was standing in front of him, his heart instantly knew that damn Nomu did something to you.

* He already knew sign language, there’s no lie in that.

* He knows it because his quirk has nearly made him deaf at times and it was told that he’d lose it before he would have a chance to be a hero.

* After the attack, he’s always by your side. He corrects people who try to talk to you and demands that they use sign language or their phones. He hates when others talk fast to you as well.

* He’s like this because he wants to help you in every way he can.

* If you decide to be a hero, despite his warnings. He’s going to help you as much as he can. He’ll ask for help from hero’s who has the same disability as yours if not, he’s going to make a method of teaching you with your other senses.

* He may teach you how to use your sight more, smell, or touch to their full potential.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Iida Tenya

* It honestly hurts him every time he thinks about it, It shouldn’t have been that.

* He was supposed to protect you but he was separated from everyone else. You were with one of the members of Wild Wild Pussycats when Dabi attacked with his crew.

* You and Ragdoll were walking back after discussing your training in the morning when everything became extremely terrifying for you two.

* You and Ragdoll fought your best, almost moving in sync with each other Magne knew how to just send you flying into a tree each time.

* He created a negative force between you and Ragdoll when sent you two flying apart at a harsh force as you went flying into the woods and collided with a huge bolder.

* Blood dripped from your head as Ragdoll’s scream came to your ears while you reached out to help. Your knees touched the marshy land while your hand shook, pain rushing through your body.

* When the message came through, you passed out.

* Tetsutetsu and Itsuka discovered you and carried your body to safety away from all the chaos.

* When it was discovered that you were among the ones injured along with two missing individuals, It sent chills down his spine.

* Since you two just started dating and he was sure you and your parents wanted to spend time with each other, he wouldn’t come to see you in the hospital.

* It takes him over two weeks and when Aizawa needed someone to take his homework to your home. He immediately offered himself because he’s been dying to see you again.

* A jump, kick, and step later, he appeared at your door. You were checking the mail as he called out to you from a few feet away.

* You didn’t notice him and walked towards your home, not noticing his presence yet.

* He was taken back by your casualness while you walked to the door until he saw the hearing aid in your ear.

* That’s when he knows now why you didn’t react and just watches you walk away.

* One thing I do admire about this man, he’ll do anything when it comes to you. While he’s taking his brother to the physical therapy sessions for him.

* He’s learning every single possible way to talk to you. I mean every way.

* As strange as this may sound, he loves signing into your hand even though you’re not blind.

* It’s close contact and he adores that with you. For example, private things or him simply saying he loves you, he’ll sign it into your hand while everything else is out to the open.

* He often recommends to others and his friends that they speak slower with you so you can comprehend or try not to speak all at once.

* If you wish to continue your path to being a hero, he’s going to support you but he can’t help but constantly worry.

* The last time he let you go, you became deaf and he doesn’t want anything else to ever happen to you again. He wants to be your knight in white amour but he knows how you like to be independent too.

* Just don’t give this man a heart attack, please.

[cyraclove]

“I hit you with my car and was the only one to visit you in the hospital” with modern BotW Zelink would be amazing :') (you can choose who gets hit and who visits! it works very well both ways)

Link stared into the windows of the flower display, his eyes traversing the plethora of multicolored blooms for the hundredth time. He’d been standing there for a solid ten or fifteen minutes, the tinny muzak of the hospital’s gift shop threatening to drive him out of his mind. The furled petals of a bouquet of yellow roses shook softly as the refrigerated case’s motor kicked on, looking almost as though they were laughing at him.

He decided against those.

Swallowing hard, he absentmindedly rubbed his palms together as he took stock of his ribbon-bound options yet again.

Sweaty. Why was he so sweaty?

Just pick some, you idiot, barked a voice in his head.

“Excuse me, sir,” said a foreign female voice that startled him from his thoughts, “Do you need some help?”

He turned to see an older, brunette woman with the roundest eyeglasses he had ever seen smiling pleasantly at him, her hands clasped behind her back. ‘Alma’, her nametag read.

He shook his head, scrambling for words. “Oh, uh…no, ma’am,” he stammered, attempting a sorry excuse for a smile, “I’m just…browsing.”

“Are you looking for something specific?” She asked, peering into the cooler. “We have flowers for just about any occasion. Flowers can say a lot just on their own, you know.”

How about some that say, ‘Sorry that I hit you with my car, complete stranger,’ he thought to himself. Link chuckled uncomfortably, knowing that he was definitely going to have to lie to this woman. “I���m here to visit my, er, friend. She was…in a car accident.”

Read on AO3

Alma nodded solemnly, clucking her tongue. “Oh, how terrible. I’m very sorry to hear that. People really can be such careless drivers these days, can’t they?”

“Yes,” he said through his teeth, “they certainly can be.” His eyes were drawn to a bunch of sickeningly pink ‘It’s A Girl!’ balloons, a nearby oscillating fan causing them to bob violently every minute or so. The screech of the colliding mylar made his stomach churn, and he silently wished for death.

“Well,” Alma began, a cool burst of air escaping the display when she opened the door, “I’m sure that we can pick something perfectly lovely that’ll have your friend feeling better in no time.”

The woman pursed her lips as she surveyed the case, humming thoughtfully. She eventually gathered up a bouquet of light blue lilies, their pointed petals tipped with white.

“What do you think of these?” she asked, “We just got them in from Necluda. This variety is called the ‘Silent Princess’, I believe.”

Before he could answer, Link’s phone began to ring, the shrill tone making him jump a bit. He grinned sheepishly at Alma as he fished it from his pocket, groaning inwardly as soon as he glimpsed the screen. Tapping his thumb on the red ‘ignore’ button, he tucked it away.

“Those are great,” he replied, “I’ll take them.”  

Alma smiled brightly, motioning for him to follow her the checkout counter. “Excellent,” she chimed, “Can I put them in a vase for you?”

His phone rang again. Link felt his eye twitch.

“Uh, sure. I mean, yes, please.”

“Would you like to add anything else? We have these precious sand seal plushies that would be just ador—”

“Just the flowers will be fine, thank you,” he said, more hurriedly than he’d intended. Snatching his phone from his pocket, he turned away from the counter and held the cell to his ear.

“What do you want?” He hissed.

A jovial cackle came from the other end of the line.

“Well, if it isn’t CHU’s resident asshole.”  

Link pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger as he inhaled deeply. This was, decidedly, the last thing he needed right now.

“You called me, Revali,” he snapped, “Do you actually need something, or did you just want to be a dick?”

“You wound me, Link,” the other young man drawled, “Oh, no—wait. I’m not the one who’s wounded, am I?”

Link clenched his jaw, the snip of Alma’s scissors on the flowers’ stems suddenly and inordinately loud. He glanced up at the woman only to have her swiftly look away, feigning focus on her task.

“You’re quite the hot topic on campus,” he heard Revali sigh, “I’m almost envious, what with the way everyone’s got your name in their mouths.”

“Who’s talking about it?”

“Who isn’t talking about it? Link, you hit a woman with your car. In the quad, for the love of Hylia. How’d you even manage that, anyway?”

“Okay, look,” he nearly seethed, “It was not in the quad, it was the intersection next to the quad. And it was an accident! I had the right of way, I didn’t see her, and the—the walk sign wasn’t even on!”

“Was she on the crosswalk?”

Link balked as he conjured up the memory from the other day. It had all happened so fast; one minute he was putting on his turn signal, and the next a young blonde woman was sprawled out on the road in front of his car. “I mean…well, yeah, she was on the crosswalk.”

“Then she had the right of way. Pedestrians always have the right of way, genius.”

“I’m hanging up now,” he muttered, disconnecting the call to the sound of Revali’s raucous laughter in the background. His near equal on the university archery team, Revali and Link were self-proclaimed rivals; well-known ‘frenemies’ to the rest of their teammates. While Link undeniably respected him for his skill, he could also be a real pain in the ass.

Releasing a weighty sigh, he faced the counter again, only to be met with a piercing glare of disapproval from the woman standing behind it. His blood ran cold as he and Alma locked eyes, hers narrowed in wordless acknowledgment of his sin. Approaching the register, Link flipped his wallet open and removed his credit card before sliding it toward her across the grey acrylic.

“Ring up the seal.”

-

The ride up the elevator was gruelingly slow, the jarring ding! of the door opening on what seemed like every damned floor made Link’s head throb. The air inside the garishly carpeted box was stuffy and stagnant, the scent of antiseptic stinging his lungs with each inhale. He looked down at the overpriced stuffed animal in his arms and frowned, its judgmental button eyes boring into him. The sluggish chug of the ancient machinery as it whined to a stop was nauseating, jostling him just enough to make him dizzy.

He finally stepped off and onto the tenth floor, referring to the clumsy, smeared numbers written on his palm in red pen. Link wandered down a white linoleum hallway, the idle hum of incandescent lights buzzing overhead as he peered at room numbers; the water in the vase sloshed softly as he went. With the plush tucked under one arm and the flowers cradled in the other, he raised his fist to knock tentatively on a door marked 1003.  

“Come in,” responded a quiet voice from the other side. Link instinctively held his breath as he pressed down on the door handle, inching it open.

The room was cold and clinical, painted and furnished in subtle greens and dull blues. Aside from several dim wall sconces, a large westward-facing window adorned with heavy curtains was the only source of light. Pushed up against the center of the back wall was a slim hospital bed, and in it sat a woman that Link had seen only once before—unconscious on the asphalt in front of his sedan. Her eyes flickered up toward him as he entered, darkening with realization mere seconds afterward.

“What are you doing here?”

Link froze, his thoughts scrambling as both his legs and tongue refused to move. All he could do was stare at her, eyes trained on the clunky, neon-green cast that enveloped her left arm. A purply-green bruise around the size of golf ball sat just below one of her eyes, swallowing the tiny freckles that peppered her cheeks. Her bottom lip puffed out, an angry cut splitting it vertically down the middle.

She looked awful.

And she had somehow managed to be strikingly beautiful at the exact same time.

“Well, I came to, uh,” he started, his words leaving his mouth before he had time to appropriately process them, “I came to see…how you were feeling.”

The young woman scoffed, turning her head towards the window. It was then that Link noticed the sutures running along the underside of her collarbone. Guilt roiled in his stomach for the millionth time that day as she began to speak.

“Let’s see; I’ve got bruised ribs, a couple of chipped teeth, and a concussion. Oh—and my arm is broken,” she replied in a biting tone, “So, I’m not great. Thanks.”

After a moment, he took a few tentative steps nearer to her bedside. He watched her gaze gradually slide in his direction, meticulously studying his movement. Link sighed, looking down at his feet with a shake of his head. His chest felt suffocatingly tight, as though someone had his lungs trapped in an ever-tightening vise.

“Look, I know that nothing I say right now is going to make any of this less shitty,” he told her, “and I’m sure that I’m the last person that you wanted to see today. That being said, it would’ve been even shittier of me to not at least try and come apologize to you. Because I messed up, big time, and I’m really, really sorry.”

The young woman said nothing in response, absentmindedly picking at her fingernails as she considered his repentant declaration. Her brows knitted above her sea-like eyes, consternation marring her delicate features. Link’s resolve just about shattered when he saw the impending tears brimming at her waterline.

“And I brought you this seal,” he blurted out, placing the patchwork creature on the bed near her legs, “You just seemed like, uh…a seal person.”

To Link’s relieved surprise, the corner of her mouth quirked up as she looked at the stuffed animal. Picking it up and setting on her lap, a watery giggle burbled from her chest as tears slid down her cheeks. The chuckle soon morphed into a full-on laugh, a bright, contagious sound that filled the room. Unable to help himself, Link smiled, and was soon laughing with her despite not entirely knowing why.

“It’s cute,” she sniffled, wiping at her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s really cute. Thank you.”

They smiled through the remnants of their laughter as it faded out, leaving the two in silence again. The setting sun bathed the room in rosy amber and cast fractured, pinkish shadows on the walls. Unsure of what else to do, Link set the bouquet on her curiously empty bedside table. It was then that he paused to take stock of the rest of the room, realizing that it did not resemble what he imagined the hospital room of someone who’d just been hit by a car to look like.

It was devoid of any other flowers save the ones that he had brought, and missing were cards and balloons from well-wishing friends. He furrowed his brow, and his heart sank when the most likely reason for the lack of gifts dawned on him. She must be in Central for school, he thought, and all of her friends and family were wherever home was. Or, even worse—they were around, but couldn’t be bothered to come and pay her a visit. Turning back to face her, he gestured to her plaster-clad arm.

“No one’s signed your cast,” he noted.

She gave him a queer look. “What do you mean?”

“Uh, that’s the thing to do isn’t it? Have your friends write their names on your cast? And put, uh, I don’t know…stickers on it.”

She shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never broken an arm before,” she replied, shooting him a sly look. “I haven’t got many friends, either, I guess,” she added under her breath, face falling.

“Do you have a Sharpie?”

“Oh, um, I think I have a few in my backpack. It’s just over there, on that chair. Should be in the little side pocket.”

Link made his way over to a grey pleather armchair and unzipped the pocket in question, reaching inside to pull out several permanent markers. Returning to the bedside, he held them out to the blonde, presenting her with her choice of color; black, red, or blue. She looked up at him from beneath delicate lashes, grinning as she selected the blue one. She extended her arm, and he sat on the edge on the bed as he gingerly braced it with his free hand. After popping the cap off with his teeth, he scrawled his name on the lime-colored cast as gently as possible.

“Link,” she murmured when he’d finished, “I just realized that I didn’t even know your name until now.”

It was true. He knew her name, simply because he’d had to ask for it at the front desk, but they had never been properly introduced. Not surprising, considering the circumstances under which they came to know one another in the first place. He’d never seen her around campus before the other day, leading him to assume that they must not run in the same circles. That had to be the case, because hers was not a face that he would’ve forgotten.

“My name is Zelda,” she said, “Even though you probably know that already.”

“I do,” he admitted, “but it’s nice to officially meet you. Zelda.”

Her eyes crinkled at their corners when he reached out to lightly shake her fingers that poked out of the cast. He stood up from the bed, shooting her a quick smile before crossing the room to return the markers to her bag.

“Thank you for the flowers,” he heard her say from behind him, “Oh, and for my seal.”

“It’s the least I could do, I think,” he responded, “I mean, considering.”

“Still,” Zelda went on, “It was kind of you to come. I just…I appreciate the company. It was getting a bit lonely here.”

Link stilled at that. So, she really was alone. He almost didn’t want to believe that not even her own parents had bothered to stop by, that not a single friend had sent a card. It had to be a mistake; there was no way that such an enchanting person had no one to call on.

“The, uh, food here must not be very good, huh?” He tried.

She cocked a brow at him. “What?”

“Hospital food. It’s notoriously bad,” he clarified, attempting to mentally signal to her that he was, in fact, going somewhere with this. “If you want, I could bring you something. Later, I mean, for dinner. I think I probably owe you that, don’t you?”

It could have been the sunset, but Link swore that a blush darkened her cheeks ever so slightly when she smiled at him, nodding. “That sounds great, actually.”

“Alright, it’s a date, then,” he announced without thinking, wincing immediately afterward, “I mean, uh, sounds like a plan.”

“Here, let me put my number in your phone,” she offered, holding out her good hand. He fished it from his pocket and handed it to her, watching as she tapped in her contact info with her only her index finger. After a short discussion about what kind of food she’d like to have, they said their goodbyes with the promise of seeing one another later that evening. Link closed to door carefully behind him, glancing back into the narrow window to see Zelda admiring her flowers.

He shuffled into the elevator, wedging himself in between a group of nurses and weary-looking man with a fussy toddler on his hip. It was humid and it was loud, and anyone else might have wanted nothing more than to go home and go to bed. Link stared at Zelda’s name in his phone as the elevator made its agonizingly long descent back down to the lobby, already counting the minutes until he’d get to ride back up again.

-

-

-

I adored this prompt so much, I made it its own thing on AO3. Thank you for the ask! This was so much fun!

[jehovahhthickness]

A friend of mine recently got out of an abusive relationship. It happened when they got into an argument at work and he was physical with her in front of witnesses. Apparently he cursed out the boss and got himself fired.

But the next day she comes in And work friend is talking about her behind her back saying that she should’ve also gotten fired because they saw her angry with him. My thing is if anyone’s being consistently called a whore, a bitch, a slut, a Cunt, being told things like “oh you’re a liar like all the women” and all that noise they’re eventually going to get mad.

and my friend was mad enough to say some thing in the group chat. The guy that was talking shit got an attitude and told her to take everything out of the group chat but she feels like she has every right to defend herself. This guy is calling himself her friend and saying he cares about her but in my mind if you really care about her you could’ve pulled her to the side and said something to her privately but he did not even ask if she was OK or anything and so when she put this info in the group chat and all those people reading this are the very same people that he’s going behind her back in whispers to about her.

so it’s weird to me that now he has an attitude with her for speaking up for herself. Someone else in the chat set up for her and did say you know I’ve seen him several times instigate stuff with her he’s the aggressor and he’s been getting himself in trouble because of his temper.

But at the same time I can kind of get what he saying like honestly it’s terrible that this happened and this should’ve been some thing that was private but it didn’t work out that way. I’m just so angry for her that she’s acting as though she chose for this to happen like she wanted this to happen to her at all or especially at work.

and the worst part of it is is that the guy that’s doing the gossiping has cancer. Like he’s sitting there literally dying and instead of worrying about himself he just had a friend go through domestic violence instead of being concerned about her he’s bad mouthing her. He gave her some lame dry ass apology about oh I’ll never mention your name again which made my blood boil Cuz you have no problem gossiping about her bad mouthing a survivor of domestic violence to the very same people that you’re trying to say face in front of right now so how dare you claim that you care about her?

Like this is my real friend. The first and only thing I would be doing is saying are you OK how can I help you I’m so sorry this happened to you but he’s done none of that.

He just seems like another loser who has nothing better to do than to gossip. And it’s disgusting that he’s trashy enough to take this very horrible public experience and visit for work entertainment for the next couple days or however long he wants to make this the new hot topic for.

She’s just really upset because she worked really hard and everyone is talking about her and treating her differently now. And I was telling her that she didn’t have to explain herself but I understood her desire to defend herself and she didn’t have to say any more than she already said but now she’s feeling like incredibly anxious like she said part of her feels like she shouldn’t haven’t said anything but a bigger part of her feels like she had a right to defend herself.

And I can’t imagine what she’s going through. Like this is someone that she loved and this is how he embarrassed and humiliated her and the people that she thought were there for her are not.

it’s just funny how we’ve all known her longer and it’s very clear to me-because I’ve witnessed this man’s outburst firsthand-as have many others-that he does not like any of the people that he works with so it’s so confusing to me that they’re going so hard defending him.

and what she put in there it’s just the tip of the iceberg like these people don’t even know that the girl got a concussion because of what he did to her in front of somebody in front of cameras at work.

I’m also trying to reassure her by reminding her that you know it’s just work you can’t really-and I don’t think she ever really did-consider them to be like true friends but you know you have people that you think you’re cool with and you think or one would think in a situation like this especially if someone is experiencing domestic violence that people would be more sympathetic, but no. I didn’t say this to her but to me it kind of seems like another case where the man’s word or just the fact that he’s a man is going to have more value then the woman side even if there were witnesses.

I just feel so bad for her and I have no clue what to say to comfort her or tell her that it’s gonna be OK because none of us ever think of this happening to us personally and then we’d also like to think if it happen to someone we know or we care about you know we’d be sympathetic for them but she hasn’t been experiencing that and it’s crushing her

How can I help her?

(Thank you in advance)

I am so sorry for the super late reply but you have to admit that this was A LOT to say the least.

I feel like you’ve done all that you can to help your friend. All you can do is give her the emotional and physical support that she’s willing to accept.

As far as the gossiping co worker? He can kick rocks. Idgaf if he has cancer and got the Grim Reaper knocking on his door. There’s no excuse as to why he should ever treat that girl like that. As if she hasn’t been through enough humiliation? Like homeboy got no empathy whatsoever? Curious to know what his behavior will be like if his condition gets worse … whatever. Not the point.

When it comes to DV, it’s such a slippery slope because if you’ve never been in a situation like that, what can really you do? How can you even help without making the situation even worse?

It’s not like calling the cops and filing a restraining order is gonna do shit.

Continue to check in with her. Show her love when you feel like she needs it the most. And I hope things get better for your friend and that her ex will have the common sense leaves her the fuck alone.

Going through something like that is so shitty.

[fullbushfemme]

Meeting the Mayans

word count: 1,804

summary: You thought you were prepared for anything. Growing up with four brothers, you had been bitten, beaten, thrown out of trees, concussed, stabbed, practically any violent act you could possibly think of, you had endured. For a kindergarten teacher, you were tough. You had the scars to prove it. That was, of course, until the day you met the Mayans.

unnamed mayan x fem!reader

warnings: brief mentions of blood, hostage situation, and a shooting.

author's note: I've had this idea in my head for ages now and I'm tempted to make it a series. The only issue is that I can't decide which Mayan I want to star (since they aren't named in this fic). I'm tempted to use this as a jumping off point for multiple fics, writing different stories from this initial incident involving different Mayans, but I'd love to hear any thoughts y'all might have :)

-I also haven't written anything outside of academic works in years so go easy on me <3

Santo Padre Septembers were always your favorite. It was sticky and hot, enough to make anyone want to jump into a pool fully clothed, but school was back in session, which meant you got to meet a new hoard of bright-eyed, eager five year olds. You had spent the last month preparing your classroom for their arrival. Nine am to one pm every day for four weeks was dedicated to decorating your classroom, making name cards, making sure every student had all the supplies they needed. Inside every desk you placed glue and markers and pencils and workbooks and scissors...everything a little kid would need to express themselves. And all of it out of your own pocket. You took it upon yourself to spoil these kids rotten.

Two weeks into class, you already knew everyone’s names, their favorite color, their pets, and whether or not they were allowed to watch TV after six o’clock. You knew who was friends with who, who couldn’t eat peanut butter, and who was most popular. This year’s class was going to be great, you just knew it.

It was a humid Friday afternoon. The room smelled like Elmer’s glue and pencil shavings, with stray scraps of construction paper strewn about the floor after the kids decided this week’s art project was going to be making dinosaurs out of construction paper and glitter. You were staying after class to clean up and vacuum, and to take the class rabbit home with you since no one had signed up to care for him this week, when you heard a knock at your door.

You looked over to the open door, squinting into the sun, trying to make out who it was. But no one was standing in the doorway. “Forget something?” you called out, thinking that a student must’ve left a lunch box or notebook and was feeling shy.

“Not exactly,” a deep voice responded, sending a twinge of fear through your body. You knew that voice. “I was hoping my baby sister could help me with something.”

A lump had formed in your throat that you tried to swallow, to no avail. “What are you doing here?” you choked out, standing from where you were picking up paper scraps.

“I need you to help me hide. Quickly.” Your older brother stepped into the classroom, gun in hand, pupils wider than you had ever seen them. He must’ve been high, you thought, panicked. What had he gotten into now? All four of your brothers were known to be trouble-makers to varying degrees. A few had been to prison for petty crimes, but the brother that stood before you had gotten wrapped up in drug trafficking years ago. He scared you the most. They had all promised your parents that they would keep their lives separate from yours, that they would never put you in harm's way. But it didn’t last. It felt like every other week you had a bruised or beaten brother on your doorstep, begging for help or a place to stay. And today, it was to ask you to hide them.

Your eyes flitted to the large windows overlooking the grassy courtyard where a few children sat waiting for their parents to pick them up. Hide. Hide from what? Who was coming after him? Would they hurt the kids?

“N-no,” you stammered, taking a step backwards. You couldn’t risk putting any kids still on campus in danger. “You can’t hide here. You have to go. You have to go right now.” You could feel a pit in your stomach begin to form as your brother took slow, long strides toward you.

“No?” he spat, completely dumbfounded by your refusal to help him. You had never turned him down before. He was family. You never said no to family.

You swallowed hard before repeating yourself. “No,” you responded, with more conviction this time, although you knew he could see right through you.

You took another step back, but ran up against your desk. Your phone was in the top drawer. Could you reach it fast enough? If you even could, who would you call? The police? That was a good way to get murdered and leave a teacher-shaped stain on the floor for the kids to come back to on Monday. Gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles turned white, your brother broke the ominous silence before you could.

“I’m not asking you again, hun,” he spat, now so close you could smell him.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your eyes welling up. “The kids…”

He furrowed his brow for a moment, shocked at the idea that you could actually turn your own flesh and blood away. You had always helped him, no matter how many times your parents told you not to, no matter how many times your life was put in danger. He couldn’t grasp the idea that you would put your foot down when it came to endangering other people, when it came to endangering your kids.

“They’ll kill you, you know,” he seethed, looking back over his shoulder towards the open door. There was a low rumbling growing louder and louder, but that wasn’t to whom he was referring. He was talking about your other brothers. “I told them I’d go to my baby sister, that she’d help me. She always helps me. Why would she flip on me now? Why wouldn’t she help family?” His grip tightened around his handgun as he leaned in to threaten you. “If anything happens to me, they’ll know to come to you first. They’ll know you couldn’t protect your own family.” His breath was hot against your neck. “Now,” he sighed, “Help me hide. And tell them you haven’t seen me in months.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” a man shouted from outside, causing your brother to grab hold of your arm. Those tears you had been holding back finally fell down your cheeks as your brother pulled you in front of him, placing you between the stranger and your brother. You could barely make out any details of the man from outside because of the blinding sun, but you could tell he had a gun. And that gun was much bigger than your brother’s. As the man moved into your classroom, at least five more men appeared and followed him in, all with guns pointed at your brother.

At this point, you were frozen. The lives your parents had so desperately tried to keep apart were crashing together, their worst nightmare coming true. The two of you were stuck, with only one way out. And he knew it. He gripped your arm tighter, making sure your body could be used as an effective human shield. The barrel of his gun was shoved into your ribcage, his face buried into the back of your hair.

“See what you’ve done?” he seethed. You looked at all of the men placed around the room. Leather-clad men on top of a backdrop of crudely painted rainbows and dogs. You hadn’t brought these men here. You didn’t anger a group of gun-toting men. And yet somehow, this was your fault.

“We’re only here for you, kid,” a low, rough voice called out, a different one than before.

But he wouldn’t let them take only him. He was bringing you down with him. He was willing to sacrifice his own family to keep from going down alone.

The seconds ticking by felt like hours. Your heart pounded against your ribcage, desperately trying to break free. But you could do nothing besides stand still. All you could do is hope and pray that these men that had followed your brother here had enough decency not to kill a kindergarten teacher caught in the crossfire. But your brother refused to give them that opportunity.

“If I go,” he yelled, raising his gun to your temple, “she goes too.”

These words would haunt your every thought for the rest of your life. But in that moment, all you could think about was the weapon pressed against your skin. Your brother wasn’t just willing to bring you down with him, he was willing to kill you himself. And the thought of it made you sick. It made you want to curl up into a ball and scream on the top of your lungs. You opened your mouth to cry out, but your brother hit you across the head with the butt of his gun before you could.

The men opposing your brother yelled, harsh words were exchanged, but all you could hear was a ringing in your ears. Tensions rose. Guns were raised. Blood dripped down your face and mixed with your tears. Your senses were betraying you, one by one, blending every sensation into one incomprehensible nightmare.

And then, a single gunshot rang out, making you acutely aware of the severity of the situation once more.

A scream escaped your chest as you fell to your knees, free from your brother’s death grip. You brought your hands up to your ears and squeezed your eyes shut, hoping it would all be over.

But it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t end. No matter how hard you prayed, you were still on the floor of your kindergarten classroom. Your brother was still prepared to kill you if he felt threatened. Someone was shot...someone was shot but you couldn’t bear to look. You wanted to look, you had to look, to see if it was your brother that was shot. But before you could muster the courage to open your eyes, two arms wrapped around you and pulled you into an embrace. It couldn’t have been your brother, it was much too gentle. But if it wasn’t him, then who?

It took a moment to open your eyes, but when you did, you looked up to see who was holding you. His face was kind, with dark brown eyes filled with worry as he looked down at you. He opened his mouth to say something to you, and he probably did, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding in your head. He was a stranger to you, and yet he clung to you to keep you from seeing the mess behind you. Like he truly cared for your wellbeing. He pulled you in closer to him, placing his chin on top of your head the way your father did when you were young. It felt...safe. And all you wanted to do was collapse into him and allow yourself to feel safe. You let your head fall into his chest. You let your head fall into this stranger’s chest. And just as you did, two white patches on his left breast caught your eye. Two patches that read: Mayans, Santo Padre.

[skellebonez]

Hey, so about that "Macaque fucks around with Tang pretending to be Pigsy"... How about a continuation? Maybe with 6 and 27?

I love both reformed fanon/AU Macaque and evil asshole canon Macaque equally, but I don't write the later nearly enough so I am extremely happy you gave me a great reason to write him being an absolute asshole yet again! The original prompt in question!

Mild warning: Someone gets beat up pretty bad.

Let’s make a deal shall we?/Tell me what I can do to help.

It took only half an hour of walking the city streets on the way to Sandy's house boat, after leaving MK's apartment through the window to avoid Pigsy and his anger and fear disintegrated into sorrow that left his hands shaking from the quickly approaching adrenaline crash, for Tang to realize he hadn't been thinking things through. At all.

He was so sure of what he had seen. But... the more he thought over it... it made less and less sense. Something was wrong, and he had been so sure of that when those pictures surfaced.

But he had seen it, he had seen Pigsy with DBK! He saw him attack their- HIS son. MK. He'd watched the man he'd fallen for attack the person he considered his son while looking him in the eyes. And he knew that Pigsy had been hiding something from him, from all of them. He'd seen the demon accidentally snap metal utensils in half, warp pots and pans by grabbing them too hard. He knew Pigsy was hiding how powerful he was, had for years.

Would he hide something like this, though? Could he?

Tang hugged the bundle he had taken from the apartment closer to his chest. Should he have tried to question Pigsy before leaving? Maybe-

"What are you doing out here?" A voice suddenly broke through his thoughts, drawing a startled scream from the scholar as he jumped and looked around him. "Whoa, it's just me!"

A figure jumped down from somewhere and landed in front of him, and once the lights of the streetlamps illuminated the person before him Tang breathed a sigh of relief.

"Monkey King," Tang said with a smile, relaxing his posture from his ready to run stance. The sight of the immortal being was like a light in a dark cave. "You got my text! Good, good..." He frowned down at the bundle, holding it tighter. "I'm sorry, I-I couldn't..."

"I get it," Wukong eased Tang's worry with a smile, gesturing to him. "Are you alright?" He frowned, looking off into the distance. "Did anyone..?"

"No!" Tang shook his head, and in the back of his mind he wished that someone had followed him out here, a certain someone. At least maybe Wukong could have gotten some answers out of him. "No, no one followed me to Pigsy's, and he didn't follow me either..."

The Monkey King's frown softened and he leaned in toward Tang, tilting his head with a grimace. "You don't look so hot... Are you ok? Is there anything you need before we regroup?"

"No, no just," he chuckled, running a hand through his already wind mussed hair. "I'm ok... As ok as I can be after all that..."

"Come on, Tang," Wukong said softly, voice full of concern. "Tell me what I can do to help."

Tang froze and looked up at the other in front of him, really looked at him. When Wukong went to step closer with his hands stretched out he flinched back out of instinct and cursed himself in his mind as the Monkey King's eyes widened before his face twisted into a smirk.

"Well damn," he laughed lowly, head tilting to the side as the smirk get more amused and he relaxed his posture into something that was not like the Monkey King at all. "What gave me away, scholar?"

"The real Sun Wukong doesn't call me by my name," Tang said as evenly as he could, knowing it was pointless not to be honest. Knowing that he had messed up. Severely. He should have calmed down, thought things through first, not lashed out and run off the way he did. Because whoever had hurt MK wanted him to believe he was Pigsy on purpose.

And that person was right in front of him, laughing heartily as if Tang had just told him the best joke he had heard in years.

"Oh, OH, I-HA! I can't believe I forgot! Yeah, oh yes that sounds like Peaches alright," the fake Wukong said with a smirk. "It's always 'bud' or 'kid' or 'pal' or 'Mango'-" He scowled instantly at this, standing up straight and menacing and powerful and clenching his fists. "Unless he's scared for you or despises you he never calls you by your name. Hmmmm... Which one would it be for you I wonder?" The smirk was back again, in full force, and Tang had to keep himself from trembling as the fake Wukong took a step forward. "Huh, scholar? Want to find out? If he gets scared enough for your life to call you by name?"

And Tang ran.

Tang ran a whole five feet before something grabbed him by his hair and slammed his face into the concrete with a chuckle.

"Really? You were going to try that!?" The voice no longer belonged to Wukong, instead to someone Tang didn't recognize at all, and he regretted not taking into consideration that shapeshifters of this caliber were still around. The person wrenched his head back, and before Tang could register anything else a fist slammed into his head, adding to the pain that was already reverberating inside his skull. "There we go, normal human like you can't handle much so this should be enough to keep you cooperat-"

Tang spat at his attacker, spat the blood pooling in his mouth from where he had bitten the inside of his cheek right in his face.

The face of who he could now see was a monkey demon. A macaque, to be specific. And if his knowledge of the old tales served him correctly this particular one went by Six-Eared Macaque.

Unfortunately, this only frustrated Macaque and he was rewarded with another hefty punch to the face that Tang was certain would leave him with at least a black eye as he heard his already cracked glasses shatter. His vision swam, both from the lack of visual assistance and from what was surely a forming concussion.

"Guess you're not friends with the Kid for nothing," Macaque growled out, standing back up and pulling Tang with him by the hair. "Doesn't matter to me what state you're in, but DBK wants some extra leverage anyway so I may as well take you and your little package." He smirked, at least Tang thought he did, as he ripped the bundle out of the scholar's arms and let the sheet it was wrapped in fall away. "This artifact should provide him with just enough of a power boost to make this little scheme of his worth while... but..."

A shard of ice dug deep down in Tang's chest as Macaque's tail lifted a shard of his glasses up to his eye, just enough for him to see the monkey demon was smirking.

"I'm not particularly invested in what DBK or his brat have up their sleeves. Or the kid in general, really, for that matter. You recognize me, I can tell, so you probably have a good idea of exactly who I want. And maybe, if you can help me out... I'll help you get your son back. So. Let’s make a deal shall we?"

[nethandrake]

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.

stevetony. mcu. rated t. high school/bakery au feat. pre-serum!steve. 4k words.

for @noririna / @venusiaries

also on ao3.

*****

Steve’s imagination has entertained the most outrageous things over the years. Take the time he thought he was the descendant of Captain America, for example (he was five, sue him). Or maybe the time he thought he saw God when Scott Lang accidentally nailed him on the head with a football because concussions.

But that’s the thing about the imagination, they’re just figurative. Most of the stuff that swims Steve’s brain has a very, very low possibility of coming true.

So no one should blame him for almost walking into a wall when Tony fucking Stark shows up at his mother’s bakery one Friday night.

Sure, Steve’s thought about it over the years, thought about it the moment he laid eyes on Tony, came up with various scenarios on how it’d go down, what they’ll say, what they’ll do.

But he’s never thought it’ll ever happen. Tony fucking Stark shouldn’t know of Steve’s existence. Tony fucking Stark, son of one of the richest people on the planet and one of the most popular kids at school, shouldn’t know of scrawny, weak Steve Rogers’ existence.

His hands begin to shake as Tony strides over towards the counter, a lazy grin plastered on his face. The familiar scent of grease and mint waft through the air as Tony closes the distance between them.

And that’s when everything comes crashing down on him.

His crush is here.

His crush is going to be standing in front of him in a second.

His crush, who doesn’t know about his existence, is going to be standing in front of him in a second and he

Steve should duck back in the back, demand his mother serve Tony while he completes his little freak-out alone. But of course, like the idiot he is, he blurts out, “It’s you,” instead.

Tony’s lips quirk to the side, his eyes glinting under the ceiling lights. They’re so much prettier up close. So much prettier, holy shit. They're so brown.

“You know who I am?”

Steve couldn’t help but preen at the flirty tone directed at him before quickly reeling his pleasure in. Tony flirts with everyone. It’s how he communicates. Steve shouldn’t be happy about something like this.

“Of course I do! You’re—You’re—”

You’re the guy I’ve been crushing on since we were kids.

“You’re Tony Stark,” he says instead. “Everyone knows who Tony Stark is.”

For some reason, Steve’s reply causes Tony to deflate. “Oh.”

Backtrack, Steve. Fucking backtrack.

“I mean, you’re also the guy in my Lit class,” Steve quickly amends. “You sit behind me. ”

Tony lets out a laugh and god, it's so pretty too. It's bad enough that he looks pretty. But his laugh? Sounding pretty? It's downright criminal.

“I'm pretty sure I know who sits in front of me, Steve.”

Okay, now Steve has to be dreaming.

“You know who I am?” Steve squeaks out.

Tony’s brow furrows. “Why wouldn’t I know you?”

Steve feels his cheeks heat up. “I’m a nobody. A nobody—”

“A nobody who squared off against Rumlow and his goons last week. All seven of them.”

Steve ignores the sting that hits his heart. Because of course, that’s how Tony knows him. How could Steve forget about his own little reputation? No one ever takes notice of scrawny little Steve Rogers unless he’s getting beaten up.

“And lost.”

“And lost,” Tony echoes kindly. “But you did, anyway. You stood up for Peter. And all the other times you stood up to the bullies at school. It’s amazing.”

If Steve's cheeks were warm before, they're definitely on fire now. He knows how much Peter Parker means to Tony. Their close brotherly relationship, something that warms Steve’s heart.

“Oh. Uh, thanks.”

Tony grins, leaning over with his arms on the counter. He has several inches over Steve, his gorgeous brown eyes boring into Steve’s. Just the thought of their height difference does funny things to Steve’s pathetic heart.

He is never, ever telling anyone about his size kink. It’s already bad enough his own friends tease him mercilessly about it. He doesn’t need to add Tony to the mix.

“Let me just say if I was there, I would’ve totally jumped in. No one messes with Peter. I’m glad you were there.” Tony exhales and fuck, their faces are close, so close that Steve can feel Tony’s warm breath. “And your boyfriend.”

Steve whips his head up in alarm. “My boyfriend?”

Tony nods slowly, as if it physically pains him to do so. “Yeah. James Barnes, right? I think you call him Bucky?”

A flash of his best friend’s face pops up in his head. Steve banishes it before he gets more grossed out.

“No! He’s not— I’d never— That’d be like dating your brother! Gross!”

Tony looks relieved at that, his lips curl upwards. “I don't have a brother so I can't really say,” he snorts. “But I get you. I get that shit all the time with Rhodey.”

Steve mentally files that information for later. He won’t lie, he’s one of the many people who thought that way. Good thing he’s proven wrong from the source himself.

He is so glad his mother isn’t out here witnessing him fail at communication. So fucking glad.

“So,” he begins, clearing his throat, “anything I can do to help you tonight?”

Tony straightens. All of a sudden, he looks nervous. Steve can’t remember the last time he’s seen Tony nervous. In fact, he doesn't think he's ever seen Tony nervous.

“Yeah. I was, uh… You know Valentine’s Day is tomorrow, right?”

And just like that, Steve’s heart breaks into two.

*****

read the rest on ao3.